#LonelyStreetlight

A lonely streetlight
Brings the court into view
On the corner of Lark Street
And East Banks Avenue,
Where JD, Bop, Lonnie and I
Spent most of our late teenage nights.
I was always the last one there,
Sometimes with a spliff
Or a bottle of cheap whiskey to share.
We'd shoot hoops and sometimes pick fights.
We never had much, so the streets raised us up right.

At the ages of fourteen and twelve,
JD and Bop started running the white for their old man.
How that man could say he loved his boys,
I'll never understand.
JD was hardly seen without a blacked eye
And Bop always wore a hoodie,
Even when the temperature read 105.
We never did ask them why,
But between Lonnie and I,
They knew we both knew.
Parental abuse-- to all of us--
Was everything except something new.

Lonnie's father died in prison.
His mama was a hooker....