Chain Link - Dustin Vado

The glare down the sidewalk doesn't shine like it used to, 

    it flies a crooked liver spot.

I krunked and romped when my pubes were new, 

    and now there’s grey in my beard.

There are bags under bags under

pupils that have yet to see so much more,

like harmlessness.

There was a missing link in the fence at the high school,

one you’d never notice

until it falls to pieces.

Failure of harmony

and victory of doubt

fields of dreams and stolen liquor

    pookie hoes, 20 dollar dub

heads in the locker

resin hits.

It hurt then.

The grey shapes in the sky move faster

and now the glass is half empty.

I must’ve dreamt it all, 

    the chain link, the pookie hoes -

another tooth fairy shitting

    under the pillow of a hollowed stump,

the trunks of streetlights

in a dying metropolis.

I have not hurt since.

Sodium orange bounces back from the clouds

sirens head toward another failure

as my youth is misspent 

in reminiscence.