That itch dogged through all of life
Imagine fearing skin in the heat
Imagine knocking it out with hot water
Making everything worse with hot water
How sad the child must explain the red
How sad the child must sleep bloody
With socks taped to nervous fingers
And wrestled naked like a greased pig
And owning nothing that doesn’t stick
Pause the writing to chase and chase
Pause the speaking to chase and chase
Pause all manners of living to scrape
To itch and scrape and crack and ooze
To hurt and scab and peel and bleed
Isn’t this the same way we all pup
The same way we all curl into a ball
To pass out from exhaustion and panic
Does the winter never take a break
Or spring or summer or fall lay low
Why doesn’t stale wind sour or numb
Why don’t the crowd’s mad tips resound
Is all that merely makes lonely boys
A taunter’s tale to skip shower scorn
A taunter’s tale to steal the salve