toothy grin

a poem by zachary olson

each boy folded
the four of spades
into the spokes
between the tires

every time the card
& frame found e’other
fwip-fwip-fweat
each boy stood a little
taller in their seats

& by the end of summer
when the school bell rang
each boy sat in arithmetic
dreaming of the fwip-fweat
of drip-heat days with pride
each boy & the spade parade