Underneath

It was a pickup game

In the middle of the street

In the throes of the swampy August heat

When the car rolls down

You best move

Because folks round here

Have no regard for youth

—-

I was a part of you

You were a part of me

We did all there was to do

We saw all there was to see

But we couldn’t see

What was underneath

—-

The big box stores

Are taking over

Your daddy can’t find work

Let alone stay sober

—-

Now I’m packing for school

You’re packing for war

Tell me do you know

What you’re fighting for

—-

Now a funeral procession

Down to the cemetery

We’ll gather round the hole

Where you’ll be buried

When the car rolls down

You best move

Because folks round here

Have no regard for youth