Monday, October 31, 2016

Christopher Hopkins writes

Friday Night Cedar Street

black glass tarmac

neon halos in pooling rain 
the flick of traffic lights 
those hanging stars 

to the lonely hearts of the town

the street corner clowns 
with money for a loving.
The easy downs 
lip stick kisses blown.

Filling their bodies.

The smell of animals on the back seat.

Animals in the park. 
Parking bay lovers.
Some nights are quick 
Some nights are hit 
with the smack in the vein 
wet wipes in the purse.

There no romance to a tarmac bed. 
or a dollar bill laid avenue 

 Bronzeville at Night -- Archibald J Jr Motley

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