Blind Spot
*Lichen Throat
*
I grew up on a suburban street
With a bunch of other kids.
All our dads had the same kinds of jobs;
At least I thought they did.
In second grade, there was a girl
Who was absent quite a lot.
She always said she’d missed the bus;
Why didn’t her mom drop her off?
I had a blind spot
About a mile wide.
All the houses looked the same;
I didn’t know what happened inside.

In seventh grade, a dude I knew
Had me rub an eraser on my hand.
It turned into a scabby sore.
Why he did, I didn’t understand.
He said he gave himself eraser burns
Whenever he got bored.
I kept away from him after that,
Deciding he was best ignored.
I had a blind spot
About a mile wide.
All the houses looked the same;
I didn’t know what happened inside.

What went on behind closed doors?
Were there arguments and fights,
Desperate calculations at kitchen tables,
Every payday night?

In eleventh grade, after a road game,
Most of us wanted steaks,
But one guy mumbled something about
How the cost was too much to take.
I hoped we’d talk him into it
And he would be compelled.
But instead of eating at Sizzler,
We drove to Taco Bell.
I had a blind spot
About an ocean wide.
All the houses looked the same;
I never knew what happened inside.