dead or alive

I could take the street to get home
as the sky grew darker.
I could stick to the sidewalks
like my mother said, take
the curbs edged with grass
and dirt. I could walk the center
line until the cars honked
and cursed. but I preferred
the alley, the tunneled path through
the mangle of briars and vines.
stepping through the minefields
of broken glass, trash,
over the fences of yards,
hopping the chained linked
gardens and small plots
of nothing, nothing
but grass biding time.
I wanted to be scared, to be
awake and alive, speeding along
with a bag of groceries,
high tops on. I was being
chased, being hunted, wanted
dead or alive. this was a better
way to live. another world
within the real one, a better life,

was the one inside.