in orange mound we sit on porches
the thin plastic legs of the chairs scrape the concrete
Spades
Dominoes
Neckbones
Chitlins
The sidewalk be scorching hot
And the mosquitoes be bothersome
We play loud blues
Drink Bud
Cuss
The oven and AC unit be hard at work
At constant war with each other
Like us over a game of 21.
I laugh and smile all too proudly
Cause yes I'm countrified
And yes I'm ghetto.
I'm the loudest and blackest there is.
You hear me before you see me
My voice enters the room before I
My body enters the room before I
And I likes it that way
Wouldn't do a thing to change it neither