Monday, March 13, 2006

My Friend Flicka

two girls best friends live out in the hills
near San Francisco they wear dirty t-shirts
and flip flops they slouch everywhere and
give people the evil eye they are unable to sit
up straight prop their dusty feet on the armrests
and are frequently upside down and restless
.
they nag each other about their collections of
plastic horses argue about whose is better
one girl’s bigger and older in secret she
feels awkward next to the smaller girl admires
the way her ribs show
.
they braid each other’s long greasy blond hair
all the time walk endlessly up and down the hill
between their two houses sometimes they stop
and sit at the edge of the road throw pebbles
at each other and collect pine cones
.
one is saving up for a saddle one has a pool
they draw horses on their notebooks horses on
their mirrors their magic markers smell like
grape or bubble gum
.
there is no one to watch them when they are in the
pool sometimes when theyare roasting in their bikinis
on towels they talk very slowly and then fall asleep
later they will forget what was said
.
when no one’s looking they fight and bite each other
deny it all later they smell like hay and rotten apples
refuse to shower or use soap chlorine turns their hair
spring green
.
when their parents aren’t home they whisper and take
vodka & rum from the cupboard next to the kitchen
they sip it in juice glasses and make faces
when they are drunk they get headaches
and kiss each other
to practice for boys

2 comments:

aleah said...

I love this one. The desert has that effect, eh?

Christine said...

Thanks! Yeah, it has me thinking about when I loved horses and the open range.