power lines droop over cracked alleys…
kid on a tricycle pedals fast then slow…fast then slow…brmmm…..brmmm….his engine moans…lips stammer…

get over here…,the pot-bellied father says…,now…,opens a beer…throws away the tab…,boy…where you goin’…where you goin’…,he ain’t goin’ nowhere pop…nowhere…

and the gray gravel kicks up dust as diesels groan down Calhoun…running redlights…blowing horns…dad’s yellin’ at that kid again….,get over here right now…,the tyke laughs…he’ll get his…

i watch from up above…thinking could’ve should’ve would’ve….skin aches for a cleansing…gut isn’t still no-more…

and that glorious sun in the west sets for another evenin’ on a neighborhood without pride…a corner-lot where fights have been fought…hookers apply a trade…muggers mug…

a kid rides his tricycle….