MC Samson sits outside on the row's front stoop
Watching the slow buses go by... one by one by tedious one...
Breathing in the poisoned particles of carbon waste
Before they can be deposited onto his concrete lawn...
Praying for a possible cure to his infectious afflictions....
He turns his head to cough for some needed anal relief
When he sees within his very limited peripheral....
AKA Solomon approaching from the Parishes alley
Gargoyles follow him whispering about transgressions and such
Snickering with gothic glee at his weak knees...
Solomon's hands are lodged in his pockets steering his stick
Some beef salami still stuck in his golden grille....
Flashing that brilliant smile for the cameras and the secret police
He takes his seat next to his friend and former lover...
The pigeons squatting overhead on the upper ledge
Eavesdropping....
As the two unpredictable men...plan what to do
About Brother Goliath... and his obvious attraction for little boys...
Where is a Snoop David or Missy Delilah when you need one they thought...
A coo cool pigeon cooes from above....
From your mouth to God's ear is as far as this goes...it coos
When a slow bus pulls up to the curb and finally stopped__


2007 © T Sheridan

Ted Sheridan

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/catholic-boys-in-the-hood/