the posh lawned isles

don't daunt me

but scare the paper rich

cooped behind wall hedges

eyes closed

my street tonight hosts

a dead drunk middle aged woman

whistlin at me across the street

as her neighbor

circles a fatboy in his backyard

and i lean against my ragtop

on the same blacktop

i did thirty years ago

and little separating us

for my best pal

lived in a  plex

and i on a river

a bike ride between

on the way

to the same classroom

and the same girls