I saw you walking on Country Club Drive
with your strange, sullen child.
Do you remember me?

I watched you play on the tennis courts,
the thin-lipped men signed up on the board,
and you sent the ball over with distracted force.
I'm pale,
I've been in jail,
I'm a voyeur.
Do you remember me?

When your child flipped his go-kart.
I cried so hard, I could barely give him CPR.
You pulled me away,
he got up and wiped his lips.
He smiled, you asked me if I
knew how to fix it.