Y’all Can’t Catch Me

Adam’s Note: This is a poem I wrote in 1997. It reflects on experiences I had as a youth and the realities some young people face today.

Y’all Can’t Catch Me

Pushed pavement, feet swelling, sweat drips and brings
Cicada calls, night heat and too low cars scraping on shitty streets
bass, bass, bass, 3am wake up call was windows rattling
Scary shit: house robberies and running home from gun shots
Blood dripping, bruised eyes and a cut near my gut
“Did you get jumped again?!”
I didn’t
tonight
but somehow the ghosts still came flooding in
Adrenaline mixes the bad taste in my mouth everyone was just trying to make it
Except the cops, chasing us after rocks hailed onto the interstate
Except Rob ‘n them; couldn’t catch me. A whole summer spent running
Pedaling fast, I got away a few dozens times
When I couldn’t, I got got and it hurt
Now, these nights when I get away I go home
Wipe the sweat from my brow and smell my flower garden
Calming, I rest on my chair, sip tea, and write poetry
Its all different now no matter what those ghosts say
Y’all can’t catch me