POG-- Grand

land of Grand

perdon-eh-mwah

could you tell haw
ahem, ahem
how
one gets down up down Grand

how one traverses Grand?
let me count the ways...

holding a lovers hand, smiling,
quibbling, scribbling memories on the heart's skin

scolding a runny nose child
desperately daring to be wacky, wobbly wild

waiting for a 70 bus to civic station
no matter the occupation or to water tower no matter the hour

taking the 70 bus, imbibing crazies, smokies, lazies, workies
digesting segregation like a plant root
choking on judgments

driving a car with the radio on
singing head bobbing in another world

walking with a cigarette in hand
thinking, rhyming lines of life to understand

running, scrambling like eggs on high
heat, feet in a fleet to greet work on time

begging, asking for money, change
bus fare, what can you spare, (do you care)

catching every red light, swearing
or rolling under red lights, swearing

looking out the window, over your shoulder
broken brick or a new RFT restaurant pick

observing, permitting the side walk cracks
to swallow you up

standing back up, brushing off,
get up with a cough and alls not lost
at all

just stumbling, swearin, bus fare-in,
money sharin, rhyme carin, music blarin,
mommas eyes starin, lovers pairin
bus waiters glairin,
all people goin like wind, time, rusty wheel rhymes

this is the Grand design
to which st. louis sojurners consign