Bad Neighborhoods Poem by Brian Rihlmann

Sometimes I take walks
in bad neighborhoods,
down by the bus station,
the homeless shelters,
where every shop window
has bars, and every fencetop
coiled with razor wire.

I carry a few bucks
for the panhandlers,
and watch my back
cutting through alleyways.

Not sure why I do it...
maybe it's just to prove
I've got the balls
to walk the mean streets.

Or as preparation
for the day
I finally flip society the bird
and wind up there,
drunk, suntanned
and screaming
at low flying buzzards.

Or maybe I'm waiting
for the day
the whole world turns
into one
very
bad
neighborhood.