Childhood Carousing by Jessica Gleason The shelf near the window, lined with white lunch bags— each tied with a colorful curled ribbon, tempts me more than a vat full of hot chocolate or a money bin in which I could swim. For four dollars, the rush of childhood delight, curiosity, surprise could be ripped out of that crinkled paper bag. And for twenty dollars the feeling would last five times as long. Rushing home to savor the experience, this time sans- pigtails, I devour the paper in several seconds of clawed frenzy to find my sugared treasures. And, really I’m not interested in eating them, just lost in the revelry of feeling simple and sweet and innocent, all for the fair price of twenty dollars. And while, it quells my needs emotionally. Still, it doesn’t reduce the sting of remembering that Peter Pan had still forgotten to swing by to kidnap me.
Jessica Gleason is a selfish writer, writing what suits her and not what mainstream poetry looks to publish. She’s never written about a sailboat and she never will. You can purchase her chapbook, Sundown on This Town, from Popcorn Press.