Improv 2, Week 12

My second riff for this week comes from Jillian Weise's piece, "Homan, Age 10"

Holman spits on my dress
while in line for gym class.
My mother is ticked.

She calls his mother
and we all eat dinner
in the fancy restaurant

with Chinese lanterns.
Where did he learn?
my mother says, peral-clutching,

napkin slidiing from her leg.
She stepped on his new shoes,
his mother says.

Holman wears his napkin
like a pirates hat.
She has a fake leg, she didn't know

she was stepping on them.
Holman crawls under the table
to see for himself.

Awkward him sitting between
my knees. The real skin feels
a wet tongue.


I loved this piece because it deals with child-age teasing and curiosity. As I let my mind flow for my riff, I ended up mergeing two scenarios into one poem. I think they compliment each other nicely. Half of the piece is inspired by something that happened to a friend of mine I was younger. Names have been changed to protect the innocent!


Two Sides of Trevor

Trevor pulls on my pigtails
while watching ‘Fern Gulley’ in art class.
He gets detention.

At recess he comes up to me
puts sand in my hair and
calls me Crocodile tears

before laughing in my face.
What gives him the right?
My mother asks, when I tell her at home.

Grade five, there is a Halloween bash.
I dream of genie,
he says to me in my genie costume.

Trevor is two-faced,
like the villain on 'Batman.'
You have a split personality,

don’t you? My lungs wheeze
in anxiety. Trevor steps forward and
presses his ear to my breast.

Awkward him resting his head
against my chest. The truth soothes
my asthmatic soul.