Cantaloupes Poem by Francis Poole

What do de date matter
What do it matter

How the wind don't blow
The rain she black
And nasty as boogers

The city she a naked stranger
With worms in
Her hair
And red teeth

The neighbors they
They might as well be
Alive
But they dead
Upstairs
And rotten like
Old cantaloupes

What do de date matter
What do it matter

The moon now
She all clean and
White as bone ash
She up there grinning
Like a crazy woman
Making me dizzy

--Francis Poole