Street Light

The scale tips from bloodless lips
But dark as the rest of the night away
from thoughts tripped out by that oh, so available marijuana. Your best friend’s cousin’s friend’s boyfriend
who went to school with a lowlife who just couldn?t seem to put that good foot down on the pavement

and keep walking scored that dime bag for you ? the same one you blazed that balmy summer night
on the fire escape. More convenient to do it there, watch
that smoke blend in with that night away
from the afternoons spent putting one scuffed boot in front of the other, walking past baby mommas, pushing designer strollers, their eyes tired but focused, their sleek bodies underneath skin-tight pants and shirts
that exposed the curves that got them that double ? it may seem like they?re advertising for round two of procreation but they only proving something ? that they still ?can?.

Girls who were made women
by a steady promise, a
miscalculation of a stroke here and there and out is the product that for 21 years has got to be minded ? and they’re reminded
of that man who for the time being is either working a security job,
A valet service or simply on the corner doing the best rendition of make it big time he can.

He can
the last of that marijuana floats into that air and you breathe deep. You get off the fire escape; you hold your lady tight. You pray.
You go right on with tipping that scale with those bloodless lips that keep you insane ? the street is a short elevator ride/staircase step away.

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  1. Ysis says:

    This is really deep, I’m appreciating the different levels in your insight from this piece. Brilliant

  2. Ode says:

    Thank you much, Ysis! I appreciate the time you took to look at the poems on the site, and to find something of mine you liked.



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