Milkmaid Molly

 

Milkmaid Molly

Plopped in a pasture like a brick turd
the high school sits stinking, surrounded by cattle
as subdivisions advance. For mockery
the hotshot kids paint a cow on the chimney.

One girl with sun-sprinkled complexion
the hotshots call Milkmaid Molly
for her notable chest and for explaining
a late assignment as
    I was up all night with a sick cow
and yes, she handles five of them before
sunrise but she dresses nice for school.

Surprise — I win the Harvard Prize Book
and Molly asks if I’m going. I say
it never entered my mind. She says
    Do it, I know you’ll do well.
She stands closer than I’m comfortable
with breasts jutting out, almost poking me.
I’m a loner with high grades, low socials;
flustered I thank her and that’s the end
except another day I’m walking in the hallway
behind a hotshot who goes Moo-oo at Molly
and for a moment all I see is white hot flame
as my low-fashion leather Rockports
without instruction from my brain kick his ass
and he skids sprawling down the linoleum tiles.
Later I pay in bruises and detention.

Harvard rejects me but—wow—Molly gets in.
Who’da thunk it? I congratulate her and she says
    You shouldn’t have kicked him.
    That’s what kept you out.
I tell her I’d do it again.
She’s standing too close as she says
    My dad told me what we learn
    in high school we never forget.
We drive out to her farm. She shows me around,
confides she really prefers girls. I confess
I prefer them, too, that is if I ever. She says
    You probably want to touch my breasts,
    but sorry you can’t.
Later as we laugh, I learn to milk a cow,
altering forever my view of nipples.
Good to know, Harvard or no.

…..

First published in Rat’s Ass Review. Thank you editor Roderick Bates.
Nominated for Best of Net.
Photo from the Walter Johnson High School yearbook.
Note: It’s true my high school sat in the middle of a pasture with a cow painted on the chimney. It’s true I won the Harvard Prize Book, and true that Harvard rejected my admission (thank you) leading me westward. But I have no idea what shoes I was wearing…