Indiana Problem

Whitesnake blasting, the three

girls high on eight cans of Jolt

each fell into the mini gym,

shrieking in voices that said

I am shrieking. Please. I am

shrieking. Aquanet, the lights

off, me heading for the small

yellow girls’ room to feel

bad in a stall. I didn’t shriek

but I imagined myself as

someone who would, as some-

one who could make people

stop and look with my voice

alone. When it was time

for the fireworks no one came

to look for me, so with heart

pounding I stood by the glass

door under the fluorescent

lights, frozen in the fear that

someone would turn and see

me, and in my box watched

the silent wild explosions

that were like thousands of fists.