POETRY

One of Those Guys

Phot by the Author

7th and 31st
Somewhere btw 25 and 45
That cigarette
That tan
That shine
That smell

Whatcha doing here, guy-o?
Where’s your mom gone to?
Hiding somewhere like a pregnant dog
I’ll betcha…

I’ll betcha if I was a pregnant dog someone’d stop
If I was small with a bent ear
Even if’s I had mange
Someone’d scoop me up with an old plastic bag
Feed me cookies
Take me someplace with a bath fer fucksake
Then post me on social media and shit

One of those guys could get knifed
Or keel over out of nowhere
That dirty tan hand on someone else’s cigarette butt
The shine and the smell worse than mange