Pussy Time

A boy wakes to shame and desire.

We were at a seafood restaurant.
I had managed once again
to anger my parents.

My dad made me follow him
into the restroom. He didn’t care
that I didn’t have to go.

He was yelling at me
while standing at the trough.
I was hanging back,
off to the side.

I saw on a stall wall
drawn in black marker
a man with his pants down.
His erection was long
and high in the air.

The dialogue bubble
above his head read:
It’s pussy time!

I looked at the fat helmet,
the extension of the shaft.

My dad was yelling
about my stupidity,
my irresponsibility,
my unacceptable behavior.

I should be ashamed
of myself.
I should expect a beating
as soon as we get home.

I felt the lump growing
in my pants.

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