Rocks at Seagulls

by Susan Isla Tepper 

He threw rocks at seagulls
the boy killing some
here and there
others out flew him or
just plain lucky—
A game they played those boys 
out of a fierce boredom
his mother would say
protective, always protective
We don’t have much, she’d say,
no lovely beach just this bay— 
Alongside the parkway into New York
cars speeding by indifferent to all 
but the traffic, joggers on the path
eyes clocking their running time
Stems from a fierce boredom
his mother would insist
unable to imagine her boy
unforgivably cruel
the way his father used to beat on them.

---

Susan Isla Tepper is a twenty-year writer and the author of 13 published books of fiction and poetry.  She also writes stage plays, reviews, and commentaries.  Her work has been nominated 25 times for the Pushcart Prize, and her episoltary novel, What May Have Been, received a Pulitzer Prize Nomination. More can be found on her website: www.susantepper.com