neighborhood
to see what's shaking.
i roll up the windows
and double lock the doors.
it's frightening.
the pit bulls chained to
trees.
rusted cars on blocks.
graffiti on the walls.
same as it ever was.
the drive thru liquor
store is still there,
but the bowling alley
is gone.
barbed wire surrounds
the storage unit now.
there's a wooden backboard
nailed to a pole, a bent
rim with no net.
the same metal trashcans
in front of the old house
are still there.
lying on their sides.
a haven for rats.
a fresh chalk
line in the shape of a body
is on the blood stained
pavement
where a drug deal
went bad.
i roll slowly down the street
i once lived on.
catching the eyes of people
in windows, fearfully
holding the curtains back.
i hear gunshots.
i hear screaming.
i don't look back.
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