Friday, November 13, 2009

Birds and Buicks

and there’s this road,
birds on it
blocking bikes and buicks

birds gouging pits
in asphalt, pits like sockets
like craters

like searching worms out
of rock;  and there’s
this homeboy

I used to go to
when my own sick birds
dig into those

things I’ve offered 
other vatos only to 
have them dismissed;

things like a ride
from county one 
night after a warrant got

served after a fight
after throwing my
ass outta my own house

onto concrete and steps
and that terrible scratch
etched into the back

where I slid into a nail
that burst right outta the floor;
there’s this road

where a cruise 
is the next best thing for
a vato with too much alone

time, too much attachment
to what was his in the past;
this road where a bird preys
upon a dead thing left between
F150s, sun, and traffic cones.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.