She stutters sometimes, with the syncopation.
Hums and purrs when she’s in the pocket.
Speaks Latin, mixolydian, dorian, and gypsy.
And she’s not afraid to say what’s on her mind.
Don’t get me wrong, she can be tender.
But tears are for violins and cellos.
Not this rough and tumble girl from round the way.
There’s more sides to Mickey than tragedy. The boy can flat out throw down.
That’s his guitar.
Stay tuned, they’re going to mix it up.
He was the straight man.
Naomi was the support for the ingenue.
Wanted to cast him
in the play within the play.
Waited stage left as he exited
after getting a big laugh.
“Why won’t you love me?” she pleaded.
He said nothing
and walked to the dressing room.
Had a sandwich and changed.
Put the Glock 9 in
an Entemann’s cake box.
Held it from the bottom.
Didn’t have to be there until later,
so Leonard went by the playground.
To shoot some hoop.
He let Julio hold the box.
“That’s a heavy cake, bro.”
“A lot of sugar,” he said, smiling.
No one felt like talking trash.
Sometimes some crazy shit happens on the playground.
In plain sight.
If you’d been there, you’d never look at an Entemann’s box the same way again.