Saturday, July 25, 2009

to the uws brush yo shoulders off daddy's girls of this yuppy hood

A spare look is all one can hope for:
I catch her when she thinks no one is watching her
finally she is who she is, nervous and self conscious--real
but then she sees me, flashes a sneaky smile
and the game is back on
and I hate it.

I smash the glass on my hardwood floor
and holler out my Broadway late night high up caged in window frame

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