Since
the 4th grade production of Peter
Pan.
All
my closest friends played lost boys, but
I
was a pirate, one of a lawless, loathsome crew.
The
6th grade boy who played Captain Hook
Was
the coolest kid in the entire school.
He
danced around swinging his hook.
Why
couldn’t I be him?
I
came home and told my parents I wanted to be a pirate.
They
agreed on the condition I didn’t run away from home.
I
said okay and my mother redid my room with pirate wallpaper.
When
my parents made me take dance lessons,
I
went as long as I also learned how to do a sailor’s jig.
In
high school when my friends and I used fake ID’s
To
go to bars two towns over, they’d order beers.
I
only drank rum.
In
college, fraternity boys were too tame.
I
spent my time in bars down by the docks
Listening
to sailors tell yarns of exotic places.
I
graduated with honors as my parent wished
And
gave them my framed diploma.
My
mother told me, “Do some good with your life.”
My
father made me a deal, go to law school,
Pass
the bar and he’d buy me any car I wanted.
With
a black stripe down its length. I called it “Polly.”
I
joined a crew of lawyers that specialized in bankruptcy.
It
was a natural fit for me. We could take
a company down,
Cut
its contractual obligations to shreds
And
turn a substantial profit. We were so good
I
made more money than any thirty year old
Knew
what to do with.
I
had a gorgeous, golden-haired girlfriend.
We
cruised to distant islands and drank daiquiris
In
dark bars. She loved the jewels I gave
her.
That
relationship didn’t last, but each Christmas
I
went home, showered my parents with gifts,
Treasures
from around the world.
I
think they liked them.
They
didn’t say much.
I’d
spend a lot of my visit in my old room
Staring
at the wallpaper, picking out
My
favorite pirates like I use to,
Recalling
the 4th grade play,
Being
a pirate. Now
I wonder, when
Did
I become
A
lost boy?
