28th Ave: Goodnight Hood

weary mind

a day without sleep
ball dribbled between legs
midnight black all aroundcrossed streets
ballcourts owned
my hood, my streets
hoodie over my eyes
tight Nikes demolish

taking 28th ave
heading to the park
car drove by
a little too slow
no chance to run

increasingly sentimental
I grabbed my ball
held it in front of me
Wilson rubber doesn’t stop

no legacy
Ashanti pregnant
she didn’t want to see me anymore
bad job done well
nothing left

“Shit, let’s go!”
squealed tires a clarion call
white lights and sweet baby Jesus
Grandmama and Aunt Loraine
goodnight hood


Published by Adam

Adam F. C. Fletcher helps organizations engage people more successfully. Contact him by calling (360) 489-9680 or emailing info@adamfletcher.net.

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