What is Never Coming Back
WHAT IS NEVER COMING BACK I miss outrageous hair bands, the delicious sizzle and pop of a needle in the groove. I miss mustard sandwiches for lunch, tomatoes and salt until fit to burst, or butter and sugar on slabs of bread. I miss first kisses, crushes, flirts, and charm, practice with the glossy lips of Farrah, then real girls. I miss free-range exploring, being barefoot and dirty the usual case. I miss garter snakes and tall grass, grasshoppers and crickets, spiders, frogs and my other playmates. I miss seven or eight really great dogs. I miss being able to forgive my dad for bill collectors and state police detectives at the door, for being married four times with zero divorces, the childhood beatings and constant lies. I miss TV, tucked behind mother's legs, wrapped in the fuzzy warmth of her bathrobe, safe from harm. I lost my delusions years ago. I miss summer camp, with archery and swimming, bunk beds, sailing and bug juice. Another chance to rei...
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