Children's Theater Poem by Percy Dovetonsils

The crazy bully,14 or 15,
ran rampant
among the 11 year olds,

thumping them on their backs
and otherwise
roughing them up.

Roughing US up.
Strangest of all
we sensed

he was playacting
and meant no harm.
The thumps he gave us

didn't hurt.
This was children's theater
improvised by him

to help us understand
what sadism
and masochism

were all about.

What would he
of the thundering thumps
grow up to be?

An actor?A cop?
A dentist?Rough trade?
We never learned.

Nor did we
talk among ourselves
about him and his motives.

We had no
language
for him.

All we knew
was that he
failed to frighten,

failed to harm.
Just as we
pretended to suffer