clay houses MAG

September 7, 2009
By exoticfall GOLD, Windham, Maine
exoticfall GOLD, Windham, Maine
18 articles 0 photos 2 comments

We fell through star-studded galaxies
ate chicken drumsticks to the bone
we drank Diet Coke like it was liquid luck
and made use of a late-night phone.
We were called back inside for dinner
but we did not want to go
so we climbed a tree and hid
until it got cold;
We did not care about the past
or politics or fiscal blame
but we ran inside screaming
when we mistook passing airplanes
for UFOs,
satellites for
cosmic ghosts;
our knees were dirty
but we were pure.

When we did not want to stop the play
our house seemed small and made of clay
i almost wish it was
so we could not have ever fit inside the door
so we would gobble down the dinner,
run outside and play some more.

I miss youth;
now I have moved on to parties
and high school and girls
and SATs and DMVs
and drama and rumors and exams
and love and heartbreak and curfews and cars and sex and guns and drugs.

I miss the clay houses.


The author's comments:
This is a poem about my childhood.

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This article has 4 comments.


on Nov. 10 2010 at 10:05 pm
exoticfall GOLD, Windham, Maine
18 articles 0 photos 2 comments
Thank you so much! :D

on Nov. 3 2010 at 10:25 pm
whisperingofdawn GOLD, Colorado City, Arizona
17 articles 12 photos 87 comments
I have this pinned to my locker door from the magazine! :) I love it.

on Mar. 2 2010 at 5:59 pm
exoticfall GOLD, Windham, Maine
18 articles 0 photos 2 comments
Thank you very much. :D

on Mar. 2 2010 at 5:08 pm
Jilybeanrb SILVER, Prentiss, Mississippi
6 articles 0 photos 32 comments

Favorite Quote:
"Margo was not a miracle. She was not an adventure. She was not a fine and precious thing. She was a girl." ~Paper Towns

This poem is perfect. I especially love "our knees were dirty but we were pure."


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