Crusty forgotten plastic grocery bags
swirl in their urban peregrinations
hovering in hot vehicular storms
of jet lagged bus drivers raring to go
from one grime encrusted bodega Continue reading Where They Called Home
Tag: new york
Clenching Fists
There is nobody out there looking for me.
Old white earbuds thumping mercilessly
their forgotten howls alive forever…
He was twelve when the words came alive:
They weren’t the only Shook Ones
cuz he was shaking too
sinewy fingers flailing as if,
as if to disconnect from their hand
to skip town without a second thought.
Old white earbuds thumping mercifully
to lessen the stranglehold of cords.
“Prodigy”: must be one who sees things –
but ain’t nothin prodigious bout them eyes
darting round like a pair a squirrels.
Look at me boy.
I said look at me.
You all alone in these streets, cousin.
*You’re alone in these streets, cousin.
And try to be more descriptive,
do you remember your five senses?
They assume he once possessed his senses
to begin with that which is “owed” to you
is a scrumptious slice of the great myth.
The Day I Got Fired
I was bored and kinda sad too. I don’t know if it was Saturday or Sunday. I can tell you it was February. I remember thinking: “It’s hot as hell for February.” Really, it was those exact words. I know this because I also remember thinking: “I bet folks in hell are made to wear big puffy coats,” which I know I thought at one point because I see myself wearing a big puffy coat, and I can feel my hairy torso prickling with sweat as I hurry across the street and down the dirt-smeared stairwell, into a cramped, stuffy subway car where I say to myself, “I bet folks in hell are made to wear big puffy coats and ride back and forth on cramped, stuffy subway cars until the end of time.”
