Thursday, July 17, 2008

if you know what pogs are then you grew up in the 90's


We live a gem of a life!

me the product of the
white part of the ghetto.




You sit, perfectly, as I
have defined it
or you walk,
down a crumbling
suburban highway.

I do not know
if I should follow you,
for fear you will never
turn around.

I have seen you,
bright as a tumored eye
dancing with me
in the street
and pretending
as if we will never
start paying bills.

We will. We will pay bills.
And the tumor will kill.




But I still am dancing,

even alone, always just

as in love with your

changing mind.