We would go to the fence day
By day, sit on our bikes and
forget that any other
Place Existed. The dead end.
The End of the street, The End
Of the Neighborhood. The End
Of thought, of consciousness, of
Care. And we would talk about
What we watched on television.
Everyone watched television.

The paint slowly faded while
My friends and I got older.
And a couple days passed by
Each week where we didn’t go
To the fence anymore. Instead
We would wrestle outside of
My friend’s house. We would jump off
Of roofs and off of tables
Onto thumbtacks and other
Sharp objects just to feel pain.

It was one for All and All
For none. That was what we learned.
We learned how to ride bikes and
Do what we were told so we
Wouldn’t question things like Why
There is a fence between the
Two Neighborhoods. So we would
Never find out. But we were
kids. We didn’t listen. We
Didn’t do what we were told.

We stopped going to the fence.
It stopped being worth our Time.
All the older kids started
Experimenting. With girls,
And drugs, and fighting.
They all learned about War and
Death in their middle school classes.
Then they told me about drugs,
And they showed me video games,
And they taught me about Death.

One night, they taught me about
Vandalism. We went out
Into Darkness and we went
To my school; their old school. There
We wrote on the playground and
Broke drinking fountains, and we
Tipped over trash cans on the
Field. Then the older kids
Taught me about the Police;
How to put my back against a wall.

Before I knew it, all of
The older kids weren’t kids
Anymore. They grew up. And
I was still a little kid.
They learned a lot more about
The Police after that but
They wouldn’t teach me again.
So I would sit in my room
Or in the street and think of
All the times at the Dead End.

Then One Day I walked over
To the old decaying fence,
And the rusted yellow sign,
And the Ivy that time allowed
To take over. And I found
The same Dead End that was there
Before. But there was a hole.
There was a hole in the fence,
Just big enough for a kid,
Like me, To fit through. So I did.
I went through the fence into
The Neighborhood that no one
Could see. The Neighborhood that
Everyone knew about, but
where no one had gone.

I walked through the brush and Trees,
And finally the dead grass.
I saw the caged animals,
And all the corroding fruit
Stamped on the wet soil. Then
I saw the House. The Pink House.
Broken shingles and clouded
Windows. It caught on fire
Back when all the older kids
And I were too young to care.
So I never went back to
The hole in the fence because
I was still too young to care.