"Porcelain Frames"

Langston Kerman

1.
Flipping through my old yearbook
I remember two secrets
a friend back home asked me to keep:

Secret #1
Senior year of high school
He & 8 of my other basketball
buddies will share cheerleader #7
Girl with patchy dark skin
and a Claire's belly ring
she wears to cover
bloated marks stretching
across stomach
like untangled yarn

They will each pile into her
Back to back
forgetting where others have been
Cheering one another
on sideline of parents bathroom
Smears of fleshy skin
smacking hard and tight
like high-fives
on game day

The 2nd Secret -
He is madly in love with his girlfriend
Only one that really holds him down
They plan to get married
and all that shit, he says
He doesn't tell people
they're together
cuz the game's less fun
when everyone can see
who you're playing for

2.
There is something awkward
about urinal stalls
Stained white glass
Something like dirty
fingernails or sweated
yellow hue of under-shirts
This is not an issue
with unzipping myself
Nor is it the brother
spilling next to me
who might get a glimpse
of taboo tucked in jeans

It is what we can't see
Eyes locked tight to brick
and rusted metal
We are trained early
to hold ourselves proud
in empty spaces

Noses turned high
Skipping eye-contact with pools
of someone else's leftovers

curdling in bowl

3.
In a Wendy's bathroom
My boy will laugh
when I choose not to piss in the open
He'll call me weird
When I shut the door

behind the toilet
Ask if I like to sit down
when I handle mine
or if I'm just scared
to miss

Later that day he'll tell me
he thinks his girl has been cheating
You can just feel someone else
has been there
he says

Three nights ago he cried
where no one could see or hear
Lock turned tight
Squatting still on cold porcelain
He drained himself dry