Wednesday, August 24, 2005

Poems By Request #1: This one goes out to all the hard ones, the young ones.

My Boy, Jack

Jack, my boy,
defend yourself
from the bad
that is out here
in this frontier
city of yourself.

See that subways
are yours for
and not a place
for the robbers
(or the cops)
to play their
games with you.

Jack, my boy.
the other day
someone was
shot in the face
around the corner
from my apartment.

I thought of you,
Jack, you are young.
Your face is yours.
Your fingers twitch
and twiddle
with excitement.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

the thing is, how can one know if they would be a good owner/mother of a monkey? does being the roommate of a well-dressed chihuahua even count? what if you are really nice to kids and think that somersaults are the bomb? i guess i thought that i'd always be good at having a monkey. i always kept them off my back. i would teach them not to throw their feces at jaime.