Christmas, 2001 / No. 7

In the days of big Creamsicles

I never had a tricycle—

I had an airplane and a car

and a Campbell’s soup can

infallible as a papal encyclical

simple and exciting as a new breakfast cereal

I got big enough for a two-wheeled bicycle

a green machine with a banana seat

I rode that bike till it fell apart

I’d run it like a horse down by the creek

galloping over hills and dales

and wrappers for sweets

rest it under a tree while I explored the filthy creek-bed

and skipped stones in a trickle of a stream

there was sugar in everything in those days

we didn’t know any better.

everything seemed bigger then

the days were longer, cooler

a kingdom for my horse