A new poem by Raumati poet Nicola Easthope.

Some boys

Some boys pass you
on skateboards fractionally faster
than your smoking hot roller skates
so that you don’t so much
eat their dust as slowly choke on it.

Some boys pass you by—
their heads in the clouds,
just not your cloud. You wish
for overcast skies and a little inciting
wind. Some boys pass their hands

over you without stopping
to ask Would you like me
to or would you like to pass?
Some boys are passable—
worth a date at a James Bond flick,

Coke and Snifters,
until you hear they think
you have a punky nose.
Some pash and pass us on
to their mates. Some pass

as boys who like girls,
kisses with butterfly wings.
They make the best friends
after they make sure it’s safe
to come out. Some pass

away by their own hand,
the ones who used to grasp and release
frisbees to the spinning skies,
the brightest minds
in heavy passage. Some hand

you a free pass—be a passenger in my epic saga!
a drop and dangle earring,
a diamante choker at the throat.
Some pass you off for another, leaving your heart
pulsing in and out of consciousness, passed out

for the most part in cupid’s vaulted ditch
also known as your dusky pink bedroom,
door shut, shadow side of the house.
Some pass on secrets not meant for you
to carry, on your own or in the company of fellow drama

kings and queens, titillated escalators, misfortunate
matchmakers, premature wedding planners.
You love and you love but
this time you roll
over and down
boy-less streets
serving dust twisters
at high speed.

The Friday Poem is edited by Chris Tse. Submissions are currently closed.