Come Over

February 28, 2017

 

Come to the corner
where lions stare.
Where belt
buckles slide. Where
tar blocks steam
and ignite the bottoms
of sneakered feet.

Hear bus seats
speak under thighs
pinched tight
in denim shorts
and how breaks sigh
and doors breathe
when Bye Baby
lets you off.

Skip four-five
blocks and watch
the Miller men play
Nines’re High.
Root for the one
rooted to the beer box
with a 40 in his hand –
the one that Oh Child’s
shines his knuckles
on his heart
and wears a parka
in the summer.  

Dip South to Reed
where windows face
street sales and houses
share sides by side by side.
Come over quick –
before predatory eyes
have chance to stick
and your polite dismiss
gets caught
in curtained skies.
 

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