A Street in Somerville By Jasen Sousa
A Street in Somerville
My street
is located near a high land,
on opposite sides
willows and cedars stand.
The aroma of donuts
floats through the morning air,
in-between shadows of houses
are sounds of the playground,
listen, hear.
On a park bench
you can find L.P. carved in marker,
yuppies are replaced by youths
when the sky grows darker.
A legendary place
where young people in the city chill,
ball, blaze, drink and pop pills
to get away from the stresses at home.
Kids making out on swings,
“Who got the weed?”
Another cell phone rings.
Hiding beers in barrels
when the cops arrive,
they shine flashlights
in the windows of every ride.
In the summer
teens floss their whips,
step on the gas, bump their systems
and cruise the strip.
A place where neighborhood kids
learn the difference
between good and bad.
You haven’t been to Somerville
until you’ve been down
Lexington Ave.
Taken From
Selected Poems of Jasen Sousa
17-24
©
*(Previously Unreleased)
My street
is located near a high land,
on opposite sides
willows and cedars stand.
The aroma of donuts
floats through the morning air,
in-between shadows of houses
are sounds of the playground,
listen, hear.
On a park bench
you can find L.P. carved in marker,
yuppies are replaced by youths
when the sky grows darker.
A legendary place
where young people in the city chill,
ball, blaze, drink and pop pills
to get away from the stresses at home.
Kids making out on swings,
“Who got the weed?”
Another cell phone rings.
Hiding beers in barrels
when the cops arrive,
they shine flashlights
in the windows of every ride.
In the summer
teens floss their whips,
step on the gas, bump their systems
and cruise the strip.
A place where neighborhood kids
learn the difference
between good and bad.
You haven’t been to Somerville
until you’ve been down
Lexington Ave.
Taken From
Selected Poems of Jasen Sousa
17-24
©
*(Previously Unreleased)