Back in the 90’s, I remember the fun we used
to have in the summer time, cruising down the
spiraling streets of sweet escape, the stark sun
pouring down its intense sunbeams onto
our skin, the overcrowded pedestrians scurrying
through the streets into parking lots, shopping malls,
flashy restaurants, some standing at the carwash,
water-soaking their vehicles to a finishing polished glow,
others sitting at the bus stop conversing on some random topic,
while Biggie’s, music, One More Chance, escaped
from the radio into the air, our hands lost in gravity
at the smooth, synchronized beats, our heads bopping
and bouncing with steady motion, the bright, sparkling
flash in our teeth, as we passed through the cityscape,
drifting into dreams of freedom, the sky above us staring
at the captivating canvas, and the smile written in our faces,
while a group of guys standing on the corner of streets, smoking
cigarettes one after another, and young, petite girls sneaked a peek
at us, rocking in slow motion to the reverberating sounds
rumbling through our vehicle, girl’s hips swinging nonstop, like
they were uncontrollable, like they were on a wave of uncharted
territories traveling the gaudy scene to a world of glistening paradise.