The 10:30 Liquor Runs are the best
His Jeep smells like wet rain and those sandals your grandpa wears at cookout
My grandpa bumps Biggie like a house party while we ride down the block
His favorite verse is baby baby
We hop into the car like we’re going to a sleepover
Pajamas abs slides, I wave at my neighbor
Getting her done on the porch curating out her boyfriend on speaker phone
We arrive, grandpa hands me a crushed five and tells me to get what I want
I ransack the store for Doritos and Juice
Still in my pjs
Not wondering if I was being looked at up and down for my jammies
And I figured it out
You can't rock jams in oak park
-
Author:
Sky Writes! (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: November 13th, 2021 11:51
- Comment from author about the poem: This poem is about being in the hood of Chicago and not being judged
- Category: Family
- Views: 20
Offline)
Comments2
good to know thanks for the share
You are certainly going to have to practice some of your intercultural communication here for yours truly – I liked your poem, although I’m sure there were subtleties I missed. Never mind, you have told us about yourself which is a promising sign that you may stay a while – in which case I may learn something about the ‘hood of Chicago. Welcome then, to MPS. Please feel free to engage and comment on other’s work – keeps MPS a lively friendly place.
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.