it was a curious pry bar hackingbreaking intocrumbling the fascade of his dreams 

                                                                                       they threw their hands upwere usually formidablerefused incursionsinterlopers  however watching from afar his dreaming-self scratched his noggin they were conceding  allowing accessbeing pliable he rarely saw them afford that they gave something consideration

               he tuned in  listened

wasnt one to eavesdrop

he heard a recurringechoing line

                                     stale pale pink stick of gum 

suddenlywoke

               wasnt dreaming no mo

a kid again

             TOPPS gum 

baseball trading cards

likely they knew they werent enticing or inducing him with the gum

                                                                        hed openunfold the wrapper break the gum into bits stuff them in his mouth pretend it was plugwhat was plug  pretend a spitting pitcher on the mound concentrating shaking his head no or nodding at handsignals from his catcher 

                                                  the gum dispatched hed suck in a breath as he turned to the thrill of discovering what five cards he purchased blind  he couldnt remember a time after collecting for a bit he again got five new cards  often one rare two he hadnt collected 

                                                       his baseball cards

he wondered when his mom threw them away

maybe it was around the same time she caught him with Playboys 

                                                                       loosely  1 Corinthians 13 verse 11 

I put away childish things when I became an ejaculating boy 

she ditched them 

he didnt know when but he didnt miss them 

                                                 at least not until now didnt know then that his mother didnt have his back 

   stale pale pink stick of gum  phonaesthetic 

                                                 Tolkien Watch your skinnyass Im comin for you

his dreaming-self humouring him

his dreamed-self blinkedfretted 

                                 Where did my flooded front yard go the sod green grown long swaying like seaweed under the glass of the surface white black-polkadotted pufferfish swelled like balloonswinked at him How long can you hold your breath, boy? fuckin puffers  hold his breath  they werent holding their breaths how stupid did they think he was  his mother only found an occasional Playboy  misdirection his treasure-trove remained safe out of harms way

stale pale pink stick of gum

   he  his twilight crew concurred

dreams were cool too

each and all on the same page

prior to 0700,  Reggaefriday,  16  12. 22

0636preferred to 1836,  Reggaefriday