long ago
many boys came into this world
to face the blade
on the very thing
that made them boys.
they cooed, gurgled, and spit
just like their counterparts;
their pee could shoot up in the air;
they crapped in undesired places
like one who took a dump on a heater vent
causing the heater guy to come clean the piping.

then, they grew to begin to play
cowboys and sports and mumbly-peg,
running barefoot in shorts
over neighborhood yards and empty lots,
playing king of the hill, red rover, and, of course, tag,
getting stung by bees and wasps, bitten by ants;
at night, catching fireflies in bell jars
with holes poked in the top with ice picks,
getting stung by mosquitoes,
playing in the weeds
to acquire poison oak and poison ivy.

then, they walked to school
put chewing gum underneath their desks
went to recess
where
they swung on swings so high there was slack in the chain
giving them a big jerk when they came down,
pushed the manual merry-go-round to the limit
where they or other riders might be thrown off,
playing softball, football, kickball, dodge ball
on the mown fields of grass filled
with pock marks of dirt, weeds, dandelions
they rode their bikes with a basket on the handle,
lickety split everywhere,
baseball cards in their spokes
here and yon,
not knowing there were ten-speed bikes and races
somewhere over yonder;
getting into fights for spurious reasons,
getting spanked for getting into fights.

then, they began to notice girls;
to gather to appoint a captain with hands
on a baseball bat,
choosing players for the team,
jury rigging bases, goal posts
in empty lots, drawing lines or marking landmarks
like a hedge or curb for doubles, triples home runs
before
the people concerned for their safety
ruined it by adult organization
forming little league, pop warner,
until they played school sports,
becoming more serious
actually asking a girl out to a movie,
buying the tickets for a quarter each,
buying cokes for a dime,
sharing a candy bar for a nickel,
eventually, stealing a kiss in the back row,
but failing to cop a feel.

then, they faced academics with a snarl,
admired the older, richer boys who had
sports cars and sported
tapered jeans, shirts unbuttoned past their chests
revealing pubescent hair,
topping it off with ducktails;
they learned to dance
the bop, the chicken, the monkey, the twist, the walk,
hoping to impress the girls,
finding joy in football, basketball, baseball,
afterwards taking a date for a burger,
going parking on top of a hill on a country lane outside of town;
or
gathering with the boys
on the side of a remote dirt road after the game,
finding someone, somewhere that could buy
bottles of country club malt liquor,
sipping, telling stories sitting on the road,
smoking Winstons, cussing:
forbidden things.

then, the boys went to work or college
thinking they were grown,
still chasing their dreams and girls,
drinking a bit too much;
watching sports events and music shows
rather than playing and dancing.

then, they had jobs, settled down;
still playing with their cars and boats,
fishing and golf, slow pitch softball,
mowing the lawn.

then, the aging began,
dripping on them like a leaky faucet
bringing aches and stiffness
loss of hair, failing eyesight, hearing loss, and mottled skin;
watching for signs of something more fatal;
locking themselves into positions from which
they could not move;
grumbling about how much better it used to be.

boys eventually turned into old men;
the good ones
still boys at heart.