puzzled skid row kids in blankets
play with string-less tennis racquets
Alleys seem comical; buildings phenomenal
empty abdominal tables with dominoes
sitting on street curbs; sunny and sweet herbs
everyone's feet hurts; kids writing free-verse
one, two, and three verse drunkies and dreamers
graffiti of mind readers the future in nine meters
ripped jeans and clipped wings bare feet and dope dealers
urine on wife beaters; why doesn't God need us?
puzzled in my Adidas; inspired by Nika
im in downtown with divas preparing my 'rimas'
while im about to read words on a microphone
theres kids out the window staring from skid row
i dedicate this to those skid row kids
with a puzzled look on their sun-burnt lips
God exists on moms and sis
we all hussle in the puzzle.
P.X
Wow, this is amazing! Being from Louisiana, its a world completely unbeknownst to me. Still the way you paint it is brilliant - its as if I've been there and looked the skid row kids unblinkingly in the eyes. Also I'm so glad that I in some way inspired you, though honestly your soul had already written this before I think. Anyhow, Great write! ~Nika
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Your depiction is dead on! ! Felt as if I were there, steaming asphalt underfoot. What a picture you paint, poet friend. I saved this to my favorites. PEACE and plenty to you.