We used to hunt wasps.

The wasps   play Arabs and Jews

We would look for them

We would catch them in a very complicated way

In an open dumpster area

They knock at night

The wasps would gather

We would take our shoes   Our stones

We would go and

[He slams his palms down onto his office desk]

Shoot at them

1. Hit the wasp

Look at them

2. Slowly lift the shoe

3. Look for its needle

Tickling

4. Remove the needle using a pin

5. Tie it from its leg

The winner is the one with the most living wasps

Winner   living

I will never forget the games of the camp.

Did you?

Never.

[Editor’s Note: Publication of this poem was made possible by a gift from Susan Jessen during our annual Kickstarter.]