TONY PRESS

Fairfax Life

We were so young,

Thought we were old.

Lived in that little house behind the lumber yard,

Mt. Tamalpais both behind and above us.

We were so young

Played with and changed our names weekly

You were Hope, then Grace, then Jessie-Belle

I nailed the sign to the door, Abandon Hope All Ye Who Enter

I worked at the yard

Helping where I could, mostly with my weight

As I could carry more than most, but didn’t know

A hinge from a socket unless I’d unpacked them myself 

I worked at the yard

Toted and lugged and dragged and

Sometimes actually sold something

Sometimes even worked the register

We were so young

I worked at the yard

Until the day you came in to say

“They’ve raised the rent and they want it now,”

“They’ve raised the rent and they want it now,”

You said, and I smiled, and went behind the counter,

Rang up a pretend sale and we walked home together 

Twenty twenties in my pocket.

Twenty twenties in my pocket

We lived in that house only another week

Then it was the county jail for me and …

Where you went, I never knew

Where you went, I never knew.

Tony Press tries to pay attention and sometimes he does. His story collection, Crossing the Lines, was published by Big Table, and his poetry chapbook Equinox and Solstice by Right Hand Pointing.  He cherishes walking the streets of his tiny town, and sipping hot chocolate, too. 

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