Know gym class doesn’t matter.
Shoot the ball through the red rim, ropy
net, move back farther, shoot again. Shut
your eyes, sink or miss, still your father
will clench when you hug him. Shower,
don’t shower. Wear your jockstrap over
briefs. The older guys will shame you,
but they get hard in the locker room, too.
Memorize bodies, hairy asses, proudly-flexed
muscles, Ethan Wells’ faded-pink nipples,
beautiful but useless if you suck them.
Walk your inadequate walk. Miss the football.
Smell your best friend’s neck. Finger the shorts
on the concrete floor. When Ethan says,
cocksucking faggot, wanna smell my jock?
Say, Yes please. In your forties, think of it—
spit in your hand and come.