They who of course did not belong
Sauntered down the old stone steps
Red hair swinging, bikinis, and a smile
Because the boys had said
We’ll see you at the Club
They who of course did not belong
Had spent hours planning the breaking and entering.
The boys of the St. Joseph Country Club
Wore white polo shirts and ordered sandwiches by the pool
Without digging deep into disheveled canvas bags for loose change.
They, who spent summer nights working at the paper factory to buy
bobbie brooks clothes on sale
Coveted the careless ease of privilege
Half-eaten food languished upon wilting lettuce garnishes
And they who did not belong hungered
For a future of manicured nails and beautiful children
Who would swim in the azure water while they sat
Pool side, and languidly looked at magazines
They, who put the wires in the spiral notebooks at night
Ignored their sore wrists
Brazened their way into the oldest Country Club this side of the Mississippi
Middle aged men crossed their legs
As they, my sisters,
Arranged their bodies like art on their striped beach towels
And behind rose-colored sunglasses
They, who knew better than to display need,
Pretended not to notice
As the boys ambled unknowingly
Toward an easy date
With they who would not be denied.
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