Barqs Like a Chicken B

One summer I fell in love with Popeyes chicken and Barqs root beer. Lusted over a Mexican rose in the flat. Upstairs. In the daytime I moved furniture and dreams. Come eve I'd slouch in the aluminum bleachers aside the gridiron. Merrily gorging and drinking...though quite alone. Happy in the glorious simplicity. Tossing silver cans and bird bones between hash marks. Wiping greasy fingers on the stars... Basking in the sweet scent of irony... You see in high school I secretly hated jocks, They'd flaunt those sparkling letters and got all the girls. I flaunted F's and got their leftovers. Now they were getting mine. Many moons later, lips still craving those cold silver cans with little red barrels. Remembering the silhouette of a rose in an upstairs flat. Some things are never meant to be opened...