hood up, head down
toothpick dangling from mouth.
I carry a bit of pride this time
from Iowa.
I kick leaves,
wear, for the first time
in twenty years,
shoes without socks.
where I have faith
in southern dive bars,
she has faith in the moon.
Every night.
overheard a street story
between Peacocks
over flapjacks…
I don’t want to go downtown today.
simple boxer player in garden,
dancin’ and tryin’ to sing,
flattened and forgetting the words
when life is right.
you don't have to
buy me pants,
I can make 'em myself.
explain love to me, though.