Warning: This Does Not Suck
Loomis
They cackle at night under their ancestors moon
Neo-native hair cuts separate the urban tribes
They scatter like rain
Yelling secrets and hitting bottles with white noise lips
Pouring liquor on thirsty streets
feeding cigarette clouds in alleyway circles
Herbal grasses strangled by Mexican Brick weed
The new social lepers rise at Dusk
and Hunt for life
These are Daley’s little Indios
Chicago Police department punching bags
Crooked Cop investment bankers
Prison state spanglish speakers
Happily flirting with deathCourt Dates with Divison 9
Tattoed and tattered
Fatherless while fathering
who live in cages
and at the end of pointed fingers
who remind me
It’s safe to make sandwiches
Until they say so
Howl Children
