They Give Us the Ghetto

The shingles are discolored.

Did they do that on purpose?

Their sheet --

Pink and white blowing in the wind.

Like its own little nation.

Walking down the street becomes an endless dance with the cars.

Stop or go.

Stop or go.

Stop.

Roll.

Go.

Glad you made up your mind.

I always like to walk with one foot on Private Property.

The ground is still squishy.

I always knew the ground moved under my feet, and today I can feel it.

It smells like watermelon by the sign of the missing girl.

Weird. I pass that sign everyday.

What’s the girl’s name?

Ariel, I think.

Hey it’s the abandoned lot where we play football.

Smile.

Don’t they realize its all luck.

Zeroes.

I’m not philosophical.

I’m not logical.

I’m not emotional.

Everyone can lie to us, but what’s the truth?

I’m ignorant.

I’ll be here forever.

I wonder the odds.

I’ve always hated my own possibilities.