Hallway Song

Summer Camp, Texas, 2009

First I wake the body
to unring a bell—
as the proctor rolls up
I slam down right on the tit

of the sexy mermaid we sculpted
in the sand pit.
Now I wind it

as a cannon.
As a watch.
Feel that cool burn—
the metal door between me
and more

metal. I mean I look down
the hall—a dead
contraband flip phone

smothered in my bunk
bed.The blue glintoff
the handcuffs

that the boy has waiting
for me. I remember
the story—swiped

from his cop dad. I remember
the feverish red marks they left
the first time.

A little fun.
A warning.
When boys become boys

with weapons

there’s little girls that become
more body
than girl.

I told his friend no
(even after that sick-
sweet letter—even after
the other girls said lucky)

so this body is the fine I’ll pay.
But it’s alright. I’ve trained for this.

I know how to anticipate the bite.
How to flip the widow spider
on its back and press—

to kill.
Rather than tell
the all-male camp counselors
I’ll take this screwdriver, this pike,
this ad hoc chainsaw

found under a park bench,

and step into the thunder dome.