Friday, March 20, 2009

The Hood Menagerie I


Bubble Booties Blow shorts
on the front porch.
funka’ da junk
funka’ da skunk
Hot comb and emollient fingers creep through the rows at the roots
kneading and nurturing at once.

A pair of Jordans with a hole in em’
hang over Harry and nem’ house.
Bones hit the table in the garage
“tennis shoooooos marker”
the white one with the 71 Mustang in the front
that aint’ ran since 73.
Now, stray cats call it home
yawning and meowing all day long.
“Boats sucka”
“All money aint’ good money”
“All money aint’ good money”
“You gone see”

Albert the deaf homeless man
Walks and talks to himself in sign and un-harnessed voice.

Leroy, Brian, and Ray start early.
Kids and grown folk get to work and school
they just get their fortified allotment of 40 cold ounces
pulling their shift on the front stoop
7 days a week.

Sirens whirl- whiz- whine
through the night.
John and Jane copulate on the park bench
as if in bed.
By passers weez at the spectacle
then just walk the block watching
their rubber necks wrapping around
their twisted torsos.

Wednesday, March 18, 2009


This is what happens when everybody finds out about a good idea.

Thursday, March 12, 2009