On The Boys, The Men, and Those Not Quite Either
Ali Barthwell, Age 17, River Forest, Illinois
I. The Smart One
1. His arms are made of ginger ale:
Mama’s failsafe cure for a stomachache
I’ve been aching for someone like him.
He’s what they should put in college
Viewbooks, but pictures can’t capture how
his lips smell of bone: something older
and stronger than me. His mouth feels like
Nail polish: thick, smooth.
We’ve been waiting for someone like us.
A girl in glasses ardently seeking
boy made of the stuff schools like this are
built on to sit under unused lights in a room
Where a life like the one we need can bloom.
Great, we’re fighting again. I feel like it’s always around this time of year that we’re at each other’s throats. Maybe it’s the changing of the seasons or maybe I’ve got that seven-year-itch, but lately we just haven’t been clicking. We’re supposed to visit my mom this weekend, but I’m just not sure Steven and I can keep it together in front of her. The bickering over every little thing, the snarky retorts, arguing over where to order out from; it’s just becoming increasingly difficult to live with. Steven of course is my “World’s Best Dad” coffee mug that I legally married back in 2006.
The first few years of marriage were laden with affection, we couldn’t keep our hands off each other! All my friends were jealous in our unabashed desire. We never fought! We agreed on virtually everything! My penis and balls were the perfect circumference to fit inside the rim of his mug! Continue reading