Newtown ain’t what it was in the nineties

Walking alongside 
the ghosts of adolescent memories 
preserved like so many 
Pompeii corpses

in back lanes
alley ways
parks
and cemeteries
as though no time has passed. 

Holding the hand of the girl 
who learned fear and compliance 
at the hands 
of so many entitled jerks

“It’s ok”
I whisper to her
“I’m here now.”

“Together 
we can kick ‘em in the shins 
and run

to the underground dance party
where our people 
shine 
in their white singlets, nipples erect, freak flags flying high…”

My ghosts, they smile,
tears in their young wide eyes
as they squeeze my hand 
and nod
with the certainty they always deserved.