56 

DANE BLUE 
BIKE 

NICOLE KOROCH 
ME, LITTLE 

lying there behind that old white bar 
watching the ragged tips of long gra~ 
wave in the languid breeze 
the heat pressed one so 
but it was cooler 
sinking into the dampish dirt 
with the sky 
above 
and the smell of the loamy green 
and the cicadas whirring and buzzin! 
because they were there too 
a beetle clung 
above me the slender 
blade drooped with his panicked wei 
his existence precious to him 
as mine was to me 
off a ways, my mother called 

god-dammit Nikki, I swear t< 
you 're playing in the creek a 
I'm going to sell you to the J 

near by 
the water sang over the rocks and stc 
and I could see myself 
riding in the back of a green pick-up 
bouncing over a dirt road 
my new father strumming his guitar 

singing his sad, sad songs