The slow thrashing of the rope against the pavement
\nspit out a pattern, a rhythm that we counted in our heads, before
\npledging ourselves and plunging straight
\ninto the swirling center of the rope.\u00a0 Wrap her up
\nin tissue paper, send her down the elevator, first floor-
\nSTOP.\u00a0 That starts the easy one, the beginner\u2019s game,
\nwhere we stood and got our ankles slapped.\u00a0 From there
\nthe tricks progressed to turning, touching, and finally
\nslipping away through the worm tunnel of air.\u00a0 We learned
\nall the heart stamping tricks in those days spent beating
\nour feet on concrete driveways –\u00a0 what to do when robbers
\ncame knocking at your door, how to grit your teeth, take
\nthe blame for all the broken bottles – as you\u2019re pushed
\nfaster and faster, the whip and laughter spreading
\nlike a stain, your feet keeping up, keeping up, keeping up,
\nuntil you can\u2019t handle it any more, stumble, miss the beat, stop
\nit all and there is nothing left to do, but take the end,
\nturn the handle for some other girl\u2019s jammed feet, watch her in
\nlonging, waiting to trip her up, make her scream, punish her
\nin that whirlwind that left everyone panting: red hot pepper.<\/p>\n
Published in: The slow thrashing of the rope against the pavement spit out a pattern, a rhythm that we counted in our heads, before pledging ourselves and plunging straight into the swirling center of the rope.\u00a0 Wrap her up in tissue paper, send her down the elevator, first floor- STOP.\u00a0 That starts the easy one, the beginner\u2019s … <\/p>\n
\nThe Monkey’s Fist
\n2007<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"