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.