got malt? (excerpt from “the village”)

at twelve clocks,

off to the mailbox.

no one saw him fall.

at work.

on company time.

but, the company’s dime

is making him ghetto rich

for a couple or three days

out of every month.

**********

off to the store with the red and yellow sign.

five chicken wings – that’s what’s up.

salt, pepper, ketchup?

two loosies, and a fifty cent hug.

he hollers at shorty,

who doesn’t even shrug,

pays him no mind

(why she so unkind?).

never needed you.

it’s all good.

there’s more fish in the sea,

(to himself) said he.

malt liquor chaser

for a two o’clock blunt.

**********

no hustle and bustle,

just the hustle.

getting by, getting high,

getting paid off a slip-and-fall case.

living that fast pace,

always up in your face.

ever poor,

never rich, an’

always bitchin’,

wouldn’t dare be caught snitchin’.

and he never lets it all inside his head.

man-child: ghetto born and bred.

**********

copyright  2008  blackstarr

freerealm@gmail.com

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