I was rinsing my filmy watercolor cup,
having carried that morning’s sunrise with me
into 4th grade art. We all got two plastic columns

of Easter egg colors, and a brush that scratched
against the paint. No one was counting on me
for box office gold, just not to spill

onto my neighbor’s paper. I feel like
I know Macaulay Culkin, as if being children
at the same time means we grew up together.

In this way I also know the Columbine shooters,
all of us seniors. When they were killing,
when their lives were ending, I was in AP Spanish,

on a day when half the class was absent
so we played Trivial Pursuit (in English).
Eric Harris is still 18, Dylan Klebold 17.

And Macaulay Culkin is alive, but he’s ten
forever, red sweater and toy rifle strap. I am 41.
No one tells me they can’t believe I’m 41. They can.

Melissa Fite Johnson is the author of two full-length collections, most recently Green (Riot in Your Throat, 2021). Her poems have appeared in Ploughshares, Pleiades, The Ilanot Review, SWWIM, and elsewhere. Melissa teaches high school English in Lawrence, KS, where she and her husband live with their dogs.