Sixth grade stands out,
with Jay and his late-eighties hair,

the first boy in our class to discover
gels and spray and bathroom mirrors.

He was mean to me, jealous
because I was considered smarter,

because I made an appearance
on the television news

delivering the weather into homes
of the pretty little girls he loved.

I faked the results of the science experiment
that won me small-town media acclaim.

I faked the Valentine I chose for Jay that year,
Be My Friend

when I’m Yours hid in my backpack,
his name written then erased.