Tag Archives: sons

Boulevard of Broken Bus Stop’s

 photo IMG_1772_zps4a20202d.jpg
That’s what I was telling him.
That’s exactly what I was telling him.
Lenny come in here screaming and hollering with —
“I don’t have my hat. When I get my hat that’s when you’ll see.”
Scratchin the pool table,
Bending over his stick like “hmmmmm.”
Serious as coffee.
What is that? Hey! What is that?
Hey! Hey!
Don’t be Continue reading Boulevard of Broken Bus Stop’s

Birds

 photo IMG_1648_zps80727342.jpg
Sometimes I walk by birds and get upset when they fly away.
My dad says it’s cause I startle them, but I don’t know if that’s true.
If I see a bird up the path,
I keep my steps even and begin to think past them.
It sounds weird, but I think beyond the space where they are.
Looking past them at the bus stop,
I’ll think about why my dad was late picking me up;
If he were on time we might have made the bus, Continue reading Birds

Hostel Tom

 photo IMG_1540_zps8af43e34.jpg
I never had Popeye’s before.
How have you never had Popeye’s?
We don’t have it.
I thought your people were civilized.
Definitely not. Is it that good?
Yeah, it’s that good. See this bulletproof glass?
Yeah.
Everyone wants the secrets—
I’ve heard this is a bad area.
They want the chickens—
Okay.
They want the recipe.
Uh-huh.
Hi, miss.
Hello, welcome to Popeye’s Chicken, my name’s Rachelle, Continue reading Hostel Tom

Picking Sides

 photo IMG_1204.jpg
Happy, alone I sit.
Till, you need some help with it.
I put down my paper
You back to the make up.
I do a funny quirk,
It gives an empty look,
Crawls back to your employ,
While I sit with his toys.

‘Please help me with the baby.’
You ready for work: apply the powder;
While I entertain the boy.
The baby bored wants his mom,
And crawls to your employ.
While I in his room—sit alone,
Playing with his toys.