The Bully

He wore a derby jacket

And had a sticky face

And sticky smile that

Still sticks all these years


He spoke in a syrupy

Tone that was part

Whisper, part wisp

With an eel’s lisp


And he’d come to

The schoolyard and

Steal the ball and

Order people around


(Well, namely me)


And he’d push his

Hands into my chest

And I would have kicked

Him in the balls but my

Feet betrayed me

(As well as my intestines)


And in the line at the

Coffee shop, some 40 years

Later I see a sticky face, and

Sticky smile standing in line


And I strike up a



Didn’t you used to

Live in such a such a

Place?  Didn’t you hang

Out at such and such

A school?


He didn’t remember me,

Of course

But said that it was

Nice that some of the

Native city folks are

Still around


He now works for

The city and county

In an administrative

Capacity, and will

Retire in a few years


And I came away

Thinking, son of

A bitch


He’s a nice









© 2016 Tony Robles



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