A Boy's Life
"Just wait 'til you see her in the water."
Putting the toy sailboat together was Sunday’s job—
The Hardy Boys rolled up their sleeves, saying “Cleora
Will really appreciate this” and glued
The slats of blond balsa neatly in place. It’s that greenhouse
Era, German teenagers with too much time on their hands,
So rockets shoot up, murdering the neighbor cat.
In those days I still believed in prose, like
A telescope receding inexorably into my past.
A thin coat of water-sealer, then two coats of
Bleeding enamel, and the thing is seaworthy.