Voices
It all began in first grade, when our class learned how to (roughly) translate the English alphabet into Egyptian hieroglyphs. I wrote a poem for a girl named Alphonsine* in Egyptian hieroglyphs. Sure, I got sick of writing hieroglyphs after the first two lines (the little eagle things are hard, man), and eventually decided to finish the last two lines in plain-old English, but hey! I was hot stuff—four lines of panty-melting, swoon-inducing, first-grade creativity. Mentally, ladies were putty in my ink-stained, booger-laden hands.
By
David Benedetto
April 15, 2010
