sidewalks are wordless people
cigarettes and Lucifer
how is it that you grew from there?
out of the footprints of dogs and the
twig written graffiti
of hunkered down boys

your fingers came first
wrists and elbows
then the muscle and gut
with your knuckles busted
in the gutter with the weeds
where the whitewall roamed
and the hubcap reined
and the shoes of shotgun women
stepped forth from automobiles

where a nickel cup of coffee
once was king
and pockets were for the dollar
a poet never has

because sidewalks are wordless people
composing their lines
that are witnessed by no one
that are girders and beams


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s