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 crumbling flat upstairs.
In the daytime I moved furniture and shuffled 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 harvest all the pretty girls.
I flaunted F's and got their leftovers.
Now they were getting mine.
Many moons later,
My lips still crave those cold silver cans with little red barrels.
Remembering the silhouette of a rose in a crumbling upstairs flat.
Some things are never meant to be opened...
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