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
**********
Images used in this post are from various sites across the web. If any photos belong to you and you have an objection, e-mail me ad I will have them removed
the realm of darkness 
wordle 10.01.10
Posted in humor, poetry, political commentary, politics, racial discrimination, satire and sarcasm, social commentary, Wordles with tags blackstarr, blunt, case, chicken wings, chinese food, con, ghetto, ghetto fab, ghetto rich, got malt?, hustle, joelle blackstarr, joint, loosies, manchild, salt pepper and ketchup, shorty, slip and fall, the wordsmith's alley on October 1, 2010 by joelle blackstarr***********************************************************************************
copyright 2010 blackstarr
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