All of my childhood memories
are getting a
fresh set of paint and
a new surveillance system

But Mr. Hugo remembers
when all us dumb punk kids
only lived six blocks from
the middle school,
and any given hour of
any given night, you could
probably see somebody
you knew, or who knew you.

Even going so far as to
dragging out a glow-
in-the-dark football and
charging it in the headlights
of someone’s beat up high-
school car so we could play
five-hundred for about four
minutes out between a
backstop and an old pink wall.

Well, they painted the pink
wall purple, and they
tore down the tennis courts
(that nobody had any
use for anyway, but
Damn it they looked cool)

But the field my old dog
ran through is still just
as big as ever. And the
hill I used to sled down
is a hill that can sled still,
so I suppose, all things
considered, the fresh paint,
it’s not so bad. Now we just
have to put up with Big
Brother.