Suburban Sun

hot sidewalks, dry trees 

kissing in a dusty sunlight dream

teen kings and queens of Suburbia

overgrown grass in abandoned baseball fields,

holding hands like the world will never end,

concrete drive-in and summer cigarettes,

coca-cola and my dying ’87 Honda engine,

fed with gasoline so I could race back to him

baggy jeans and wild hair, now a hometown memory 

some days all I want is to sit by the tracks,

watching the stars, under sheets and glowing stars

sweet air and innocence, breath calm and mind sound…

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s