My Tude

Nike and Nicky

On the palisade

Neon scribble napkin

Friend tier three

Entire nights with ivy

In pots and the wind

Jiggling the leaves

With a snarky breeze

Monkey bar ceiling beams

It's where the hippies slept

My fake money spills from

The hoodie pocket

Tell your heart to fear nothing

A modest blouse in the Tennessean box

Then a pedestrian struck by

A goddamned Pontiac Aztec on Broadway

I sprint to the new central precinct

Like a TV show desperate person

I'm a bluster of red goretex

"Can I help you"

"A woman has been struck by a burnt orange Aztec"

"Excuse me?"

"On the fucking corner of broad and fifth"

The blunt was ripe

And the Frist was splintering

Under the weight of the Ingram family cousins

And the swoopy hair

And the casual blazers

I knew Jesus was just outside

Huddled in the corner by a spineless first date

I've been looking for Jesus my whole goddamned life