stands akimbo, top row, his smile
wider than all the others. In his eyes
a twinkle enough to cause a lens flare.
I imagine he bounced up the risers
with antelope grace—leap and bound,
leap and bound. His head is tilted
a full forty-five degrees. He stands
proud and excited. His shirt is pressed
to perfection, tucked tightly into brand-new
Spiderman underwear his mom bought him.
He barely realizes he will be an abomination.
