The Narrow Edge
Snippets and Speculative Fiction
Three Poems from Stephen J Golds
Holes
I still remember
thepark we played in as kids.
Griffiti riddled slide and rusty chained swings.
Broken glass scattered in crab grass.
And thegirl who lived in the block of apartments
across the streetwith her grandmother.
Her smile the whitest thing I’d ever seen.
Lips the color of cherry bubble gum.
She smiled a lot. Mymouth wouldalways
go very dry whenever I spoke to her.
Once she asked me
why my friends called me ‘poor’?
I opened my mouth and closed it.
Stuttered.
My friends said they would show her why.
I still remember
Ilaughed
that begging, breathless kind of laughter.
The sound you make when yourealize
people you trusted
are going tobetray you,hurt youand
you want to show yourself
much stronger than you are.
It’s all just one big joke
and you can take a joke.
I still remember
theyripped the sneakers from
my feet exposingtheholey socks
concealed…
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The Narrow Edge 