I am that kid
Standing at the mouth of a suburban-sidestreet,
looking down the
tree-lined block.
Memories of past
Summer-adventures
as insistent
as the blazing sun
over my head.
A block of silence.
My generation. Turned.
New kids being born.
Still in the nest.
The concrete friends of
summer yesteryear
evaporated
as they
have started
combing their hair,
and giving a shit about
looking-, "neat".
Cars burst out of bycicle's-
coccoon.
I am the
last
boy standin.
Mad-Maxxin'...
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