The Pink Note God Pinned to My Shirt
My mother tossed me into Boy Scouts,
where I scouted the boys,
eager to rub sticks and start a fire.
I hated balls (sports balls),
but she wouldn’t give me Barbies.
Daisy-picker. Letter-licker. Bruised orange
left out for raccoons. She beat me
like she beat the rugs—
callous, almost bored, like she knew
it wouldn’t work but dammit,
she had to try. She had to
pummel my softness all the way out.
Mickie Kennedy (he/him) is a gay, neurodivergent writer who resides in Baltimore County, Maryland with his family and a shy cat that lives under his son’s bed. A Pushcart Prize nominee, his work has appeared or is forthcoming in Threepenny Review, POETRY, The Southern Review, Colorado Review, Gulf Coast, Black Warrior Review, Copper Nickel, and elsewhere. A finalist for the 2023 Pablo Neruda Prize, he earned an MFA from George Mason University. Follow him on Twitter/X @MickiePoet or his website mickiekennedy.com.
