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…

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