he sits on the curb
all twelve years of him,
waiting to be a teen
when he'll have to pay
adult price for a movie ticket
or bus pass
he usually has no cash
for either; but wishing and waiting
are art forms to him
he's learned to move
the brush of time slowly on life's palette
while he watches others whizzing by
on their store-bought skateboards
and Huffy ten speed bikes, while he has
only one gear for two feet
which now are clad in Keds
from the thrift store, and planted
firmly on the cement
by the drain gutter, where he
last saw his favorite possession, a Super Ball,
get ****** into the sewer
when the storm ended, he yanked
off the manhole cover and crawled into
the dark, but the ball was gone forever
when he came back into the street,
yet lamenting his round loss, more boys
on bikes buzzed by
their circles safely spinning
on asphalt, far from the gutter and curb where
he once again sat--wishing, waiting
Baltimore, 1965
May 16, 2017
May 16, 2017 at 4:06 PM UTC
he sits on the curb
all twelve years of him,
waiting to be a teen
when he'll have to pay
adult price for a movie ticket
or bus pass
he usually has no cash
for either; but wishing and waiting
are art forms to him
he's learned to move
the brush of time slowly on life's palette
while he watches others whizzing by
on their store-bought skateboards
and Huffy ten speed bikes, while he has
only one gear for two feet
which now are clad in Keds
from the thrift store, and planted
firmly on the cement
by the drain gutter, where he
last saw his favorite possession, a Super Ball,
get ****** into the sewer
when the storm ended, he yanked
off the manhole cover and crawled into
the dark, but the ball was gone forever
when he came back into the street,
yet lamenting his round loss, more boys
on bikes buzzed by
their circles safely spinning
on asphalt, far from the gutter and curb where
he once again sat--wishing, waiting
Baltimore, 1965
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