Dating.
How is that for a word?
That's what you do when you're thirteen.
When the boy with braces and rubber bands
pushing out between his lips
calls you on the phone
and you wonder what he would sound like
if his mouth was emptied
of everything but his teeth.
Now the ones that call
have mouths full of cigarette butts and alcohol.
You meet them at the appointed bar stools
Count how many drinks they have
Waiting to see how long it takes
before they slur their words.
Worst yet.
Getting talked into a group dinner
paired off with a man
that my friends think will replace
my missing left shoe.
