yet the laughter
of a playground chatter
of simple times
for summer’s early friend
has disappeared
and even the yolk of death
ousted for a child’s smile
of walking pets
in this backwoods
jungle gym of civilization
chalk scratchings underfoot
graffiti lines and tags color

notes… yeah, I am old school, metal head, rap, OG hip hop, classical, electronica, ambient, alt…. do I surprise you yet? nah… pay attention, I got all my kids in detention but pay attention they are all in attendance just they can’t all be present for this romance, so… I have walked the streets of suburbia, and I also know all the worst parts of most towns… not many people have my shared experience, I go from Bed-Stuy to the Upper West Side, from Toms River to Franklin Lakes, from Hazleton to Center City – hey PA, south bronx, got ya, people forget and lament, laurelton and the rock beach away, out of the reach of bay ridge… I travel all of it… (ahem, I really do…)

*and this one is staccato pace… the poem that is… just so you know, I do things in purpose, I am not some enigma, or a puzzle, is there layers ? sure… but for me I want at least some visceral before you start peeling the onion, so….. have at it. and thanks for any and all those who read me, I do appreciate your thoughts.