in a neighborhood where a border
ebbed and flowed like tides
the gentrified and the untamed
made an uneasy peace
like old cobblestone sidewalks and fresh pastel paints,
moments of smiles and acceptance.
in the near shadow of a Capitol
in the airways and alleyways
group of untamed boys become a mob
a Guinea Fowl,(--)a zoo fugitive(--) now prey of a wilding
amid screams and shouts, hurled cobblestones
a frantic bird an even more frantic hunt
While on the street, people with bright futures
people with dim and hazy pasts, passed.
Shiny new car keys and day old liquor bottles
branded each; they shared sidewalks
but not evening talks, tolerance
was the watch word as howling boys
and clucking hen, acted out a scene
from an African forest…and no one looked up
to count stars or envy the shape of the moon
they were worlds apart here…on this narrow city street.
