Tony Gloeggler: Sunday

After celebrating my birthday
with cake, we gathered around
my nephew’s grammar school
yearbook. It’s much cooler
than the one I remember
from St Ann’s, 1968. All
I recall are class pictures
from first to seventh grade
and individual photos, miniature
baseball cards of every
graduating eighth grader
wearing a cap and gown,
everyone looking goofy,
stiff and so uncomfortable.
His has a string of pictures
for each graduate, some
starting out as infants.
I grab Daniel’s shoulder,
tell him fortunately for him
he’s shown steady improvement
in the looks department.
He punches my arm. His mom
assures him he was a cutie,
kisses the back of his head.
Next page, the kids list
memories. We all laugh
when Daniel reads he’ll miss
his pet beetle. The next to last
page opens up in the shape
of a rocket where the kids
scrawled what they want to be:
doctors, a couple of astronauts,
plenty want to play basketball,
soccer, one ballerina, a few
say make lots of money. Daniel
who seems smart enough to be
whatever he wants, told me
either a veterinarian or graphics
designer once, but for the record
it’s an Ardito’s pizza delivery guy
so he can eat his favorite slices
anytime for free. Some evolved,
enlightened kids hope to be happy
and everyone thinks that’s sweet,
while I wonder if they’re unhappy
now, praying they’ll grow out of it.

Back in 1968 I always felt good
on a baseball field or basketball
court, listening to summer songs
on a transistor radio, head bowed
in a book, weekends sitting next
to Uncle Dom at Sunday dinner,
passing raviolis. Everywhere else,
I was quiet, withdrawn, thinking
too much, awkward, tentative
with no sense of belonging,
the world revving by me,
unprepared for girls, drinking,
drugging, growing up, making
plans for any kind of future.
Part of me wants to talk to Daniel,
see if he understands it at all,
does he know what I mean, ever
feel the same, could it help
either of us? Instead, we head
out to the backyard. I barely
beat him in a basketball shoot-
out, he crushes me in cornhole.

~~~


Copyright 2026 Tony Gloeggler. First published in Lips.

Tony Gloeggler’s books include What Kind of Man (NYQ Books, 2020). He is a life-long resident of New York City. His new book, Here On Earth, was published by NYQ Books January, 2026.