(photo: David Robert Bliwas)
It was a time
when I thought
smoking cigarettes on the roof
with Janine
was a sin
Janine was my “cool” friend
She wore tight tops
and sat on men’s laps
Catholic girls in Jackson Heights
didn’t do that
I swore I heard someone coming
so in my haste
to tamp it out
ashes fell and bubbled
a scar on my knee
We ducked but
nobody came
I was so afraid
of sin, always sin,
but she wasn’t
She had no fear
She was cool
but never mean
Suburban Hobo 
Now, we cannot help but wonder, where is Janine now? Perhaps it is better not to know–the fantasy of the imagination being more interesting than reality.
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I don’t know, Greg. Lost touch with almost everyone from the old neighborhood. She was larger than life.
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Not knowing her future, she will forevermore remain larger than life. . . .
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Guilt and sin….seems like I was always in Saturday confession because of something I did wrong (And to think, I never smoke, drank or did drugs! What a boring kid I was!!!) 🙂 Great poem, Erica…like Greg, I wonder what happened to her…..
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Yes, I thought everything was a sin back then, Lucie. Thanks for the kind words.
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Those were the days, when smoking was sinful, even saying a “bad word” drove us into the confessional but, it was also cool, and that my friend made us brave. You are so brave!!!
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xox, I wish I felt brave, Nancy.
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A Billy Joel kind of girl.
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