sex education

there was a kid
in the old neighborhood,
jimmy, that had
red hair that fell
like soft flames
along his brow.
despite being
only a year older
than you at eleven he
knew everything there
was to know about sex.
he was wiry and blued eyed,
animated.
he was a walking
Kinsey report, telling
his gathered group
of striped shirt minions
with cowlicks
the in and outs of
women, of how to please
them. how different
they were. what makes
them tic. what makes
them swoon and want more
love. sometimes
he'd bring chalk and
draw a crude picture
on the side of a wall
or an apartment
laundry room floor where
he held court, out
of earshot from parents
or adults. remember,
he used to say when wrapping
up a seminar
before playing stick
ball behind the bowling
alley. remember.
they like it too, almost
as much as we do.