Thursday, September 24, 2015

poem of the day 09.24.15

the king of america

brooklyn blows
trump gas
5th avenue
apple hookah smells
for a tuesday night
i think
i mean i hope
they never fix this liquor store sign
so beautiful
half-pink neon
like an exotic language
mixing with the night
my stomach hunger growls
at the scent of kabobs
lamb pyramids
hanging in restaurant windows
i walk
behind two arab girls
big american flag bags
slung over
small shoulders
talking pop music
new tv shows
still not enough evidence
for him
dips down low
sneers in their faces
says something i cannot hear
stop stuns them
walks off
ofay proud
like the king of america
strolling home
on a dead


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