The Maynard
Spring 2016

Spenser Smith

A Coke and a KitKat

We crack windows with rocks
hunt cigarette butts and smoke ’em
press doorbells and run

Mrs. Miller told me
not to play with those native kids
said they’re not my friends

We stroll down Broad Street
to 7-Eleven
for a Coke and a KitKat

Brandon flips two brown birds
at each passing car

Diamond giggles at the flying pitch
of honking horns

Moonlight spews
over icy concrete
we joke about girls
tease each other about
who likes who

Brown eyes, like mine
seem like friends to me