let me tell you the story about Rodney

let me get drunk
and tell you the same story
again and again
about Rodney
who died on his bicycle
and though i didn't know him
i thought of him as a mystic
foreign tongued shaman
sitting at the corner store

we can have our laughs
but i never feel safe
it's easier to blame the scar beneath my navel
on teen angst
it's hard to be a good friend
yawning while you speak with them
repeating key words
to calm your demons
listen, listen

let me tell you the story
of how i will forget everything
again and again
as not to offend you
it is much easier
than to tell you
how as a child
i became a crippled pony
crawling on my knees for weeks

do not trust a word i am saying
it is easier
to stay strangers
as not to hurt you
when i ask your name for the fourth time
or you can come home
and wrap gauze around my knees
listen as i tell you the story about Rodney