How We Spent Our Childhood by Erin Kirsh

Slid, thighs
squeezing mahogany banister,
mother screaming father
shrugging, candy-cream light
through dusk-smudged windows,
slid, hit
post, tailbone supple, dismount,
charge up carpeted stairs,
slip, stampede
up on all fours, rug burn
pinking palms, swing thin,
sparsely-haired legs, brave
from childhood, over the wood,
do it all again
until mother has grown immune,
until all limitations
gain weight.


Copyright © Erin Kirsh. Originally published in EVENT Magazine (Issue 47.1, Spring/Summer 2018).


Erin Kirsh is a writer and performer living in Vancouver. A Pushcart Prize nominee, her work has been published in EVENT, The Malahat Review, Cosmonauts Avenue, Noble/Gas Quarterly, and more.

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