“WEAPONS FREE!”
The gangly teenager
Pushes greasy hair from his face and
Throws a bony fist at a smaller kid
Hitting him in the shoulder,
Years of this fetid neighborhood’s condensed detritus
Telegraphing through his rail thin frame.
In a moment of an old man’s prescience, gilded by hindsight,
I see him
Still at it
30 years later
Probably  riding that same chrome razor scooter.