Bullock Boy

Bullock boy confronted me
as I shared the same pavement…
He was with his sister he kept under his perceived pristine patience…
He let on he had muttered something about me I hadn’t heard… clear as crystal as he backed his head closer from the curb…
I guess it must have been so awful, so rightful for him to secret-share…
But I think I know what he declared…
“If you have anything do to with my sister, I won’t be afraid of ramming you dead, I’ll ram anyone dead who lays an eye on her…”
I hadn’t looked at his sister,
But knew she never looked at him when he acted for her…
I suppose I was in his space and he hated the spear of observation…
Yet I think there was something too real about me that caused him to care…
Maybe because I came across half feminine/ruffled, half fur/feather - human even…
When he turned to face me
I stared straight through him
as he stared through me…
Though there was one difference - I was here and he was nowhere…
I think what he really wanted to say before I silenced his slick cheapness was -
“I’m scared of the awkward way you are
because it reveals something awkward about myself…”
Because the real scare was the chamber of that hollow howling mirror he couldn’t escape, as he turned to face the supposed villain…
With me a pliant tree in the middle - green and vermillion -
In the meantime, his sister glides her claws through the needles…
And after crossing the road, he knew my question was there but didn’t stare…
But in the darkness of that wood, he knows the wolf is there waiting - dressed up as his sister and his mother and his other - until she gets out and lets out one unanimous roar - because he thinks this is the way; to butcher for convention… so he drowns in his hood and runs till he falls from the house he thinks he can no longer call home or restore…

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