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Rated: E · Poetry · Home/Garden · #2034448
A draft of a short poem I wrote in my college dorm room. I hope my roomy doesn't take it.
we had a scorcher that summer day in my hometown Cleveland;
the cement was torture to my soles as I went over to Mr. Nielands
to chop his grass and hose down his moldy side wall
and listen to him harass me about “taking my time. Get it ALL”
so he could hand me a crumpled twenty dollar bill & say scat;
snatching his bill badly tanned I told the guy I’m cool with that
and I fled over to Clyde, Iggy, and JCub’s club house downtown
to bet some poker hands and play it good enough to see them frown.
but whatever the case would be, I was still just as free
during that humid, face burning day in fine Cleveland,
as the squirrel racing its way up the branches of a tree.
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