Just girls of summer
that hot day
under the 100 year oak
our picnic was devine. 

The sweet lemonade of childhood
our lives were perfect. 

You brought your new 
transistor radio with 
those huge size C batteries. 

“Elvis is dead.” lofting above our heads.
into the oak leaves
tossed in the breeze
ruined our innocent world. 

You ran away crying
forgetting your transistor  
with its disgustingly large batteries
i spilled my shitty made-from-a-chemical-mix

Leaving me to gather the remnants
of our day
this wedded us for life
shaping our dysfunction.  

For better or worse
we we were no longer 
just girls of summer.