sinful man
bathing in the jezebel juice
muffled sounds of pounding fists on flesh
and pooling blood beneath it
to be covered up by skin-toned cream
he used to love
but downs brown bottles and spends
his nights near corner stores..
wretched 40s in paper bags that don’t mask a thing
comes home when he feels like
smelling of Dulce, the lady from the corner,
and commands a room
liquified demons
for they have him wrapped around the neck
silently begging for his life back
liver failing and heart with it
a single tear running down his face
only thinking of his mother
he blames his father
he wasn’t supposed to be this way
he was supposed to be successful and happy in his fathers eyes
black army man that never took no for an answer
6’3” army man
gave him siblings growing up all the same block
how considerate
all the neighbors kids on grave street were blood
ock legs and broad shouldered army man
when he came around the women on the block kept quiet
as if all sworn to secrecy of their forbidden affairs
he uses his faulty upbringing as an excuse to be the failure that he is
serious army man
never owed money to anybody
and never said excuse me during passing because
just with one look you knew
he was always going to go off unapologetically