Christy Prahl

Strange O'Clock

I’ve been around

since you could buy a device 

that scrambled an egg 

before you cracked it open

or 13 cassette tapes for a penny

(baby’s first Pyramid scheme)

and it was easy to be young

when the world had so many 

miracles on offer.

Those tapes arrived

and it was Christmas in the mailbox,

tearing off the cellophane

on Neil Sedaka’s Greatest Hits,

the Monkees’ Greatest Hits,

Stevie Wonder’s Greatest Hits.

They were all the greatest hits

back then, our haircuts fresh

from the Supercuts

as we practiced French

kisses with the kid next door

tasting of cherry licorice,

which we shared before and after

feeling we’d passed through

an eye

to the next important minute

of our lives, when

there would be storms

and fingers

and we grew

into the terrible

beautiful things

that might happen.

All the while it was already

tomorrow in Japan,

like we were forever

getting ready for it.