nostalgia is a sneeze by Hil Hoover

I wrote a cute silly poem, and it broke my internet. That's my story and I'm sticking to it, and that's why i had to have Omar post this one for me!

we all board this ride together

though in a year or so

we might be more inclined

to sort ourselves in twos

or threes (don't judge!)

it isn't quite time for that yet

and this year we pile on the hay ride giggling

dressed in the sort of half-costumes you get

early in the day when

no one wants to NOT dress up

but no one wants to go

full mask or makeup in summer heat

so we all half-ass it with

swishy fabrics or toy swords

pirate hats or cat ears

you telling me "just be punky

brewster this one last time"

and I already have the outfit

don't I?

there's popular kids somewhere on the other

side of the maze being loud

but they're not talking to us

and we're certainly not talking to them

we have secrets to whisper

bumping along through the

evening haze

there's more to this event:

we burnt some fried pies to

have an excuse to nibble them

and of course your granny

knows that's a trick

but she loves us

and we carved some pumpkins

terribly, actually

I'm still not sure what

some of y'all

were even trying to express

but that's art

I guess

and I'm the one with a bandaged hand

which is why now

here

bumpin' along as it starts

to get dark

and teenagers wearing spooky masks

jump out from

who-knows-where

my best friend skitters

over two whole people

and my own lap

to get to my

unbandaged hand

and cling to it

like he might die

if he lets go

right. he's scared of

this stuff, and I forgot

the hayride was the spooky

kind at the end?

also forgot about. Hay.

and allergies.

achoo?

ah. well.

our clasped hands

are a little messy

before I realize what

has happened.

I didn't learn you're

supposed to sneeze

into elbows until

years later, I think.