regardless of the hell we swim in
& the love we choke on.
A day, sunny & blue
to explore my South Street--
not as tourist, but at home.
So many places, just tryna' make it
Aladeen out of business?
Failed Disney's magic carpet.
Keep on, Big Green Earth Store--
I want this: free--
take all 3. Sold!
No more cancer in my space.
No more Dollar Store scares.
Still an hour? I need dinner.
Time to try The Bean.
Almost empty--like I want it.
Soft music, soft typing,
chairs which don't corrupt.
Gimme the standard-wich,
with bagel, egg, & cheese.
Hot coffee--gimme plenty
& Tabasco, don't get lazy.
Window seat, best light,
best spot to escape,
see faces & street.
There's that old man I passed
stopped right outside--opposite:
grey beard, red pants, Cosby sweater, rusty bike,
lingering stare: Just.For.Me.
He's Beat. He knows.
Had to find me again
to gift me with that wink & grin.
Thanks, man.
Must learn of she whom he becries,
with the benzedrine & the suicide eyes.
Don't hear the freedwomen--only guys:
what if where & who I'm with
are my place & guides?
The chick with the words, me--
amidst the tongue-tied, stuck inside.
checks & balances,
callbacks, freakouts.
Come here for a minute...
No! Take me with you.
Calm down, listen,
& provide me protection.
We can do this alone, or try,
but why?
We won't make it out alive:
Alive the way we need to die
to step out on the right side.
A space is only as clean as its bathroom.
Fuck yes.
