Ghetto Love-Frank Orvalle
Ghetto Love
By Frank Ovalle
I was almost delirious-
the night, young and ripe
was slipping from my fingers.
It wasn’t even 9 yet
and the buses weren’t running.
Guess it wasn’t safe
in this part of town.
But I had somewhere to be-
I chainsmoked my way
(on foot) past warehouses
and decaying apartments.
In the brackish streets
of the stinking swamp,
I was as free as I’d ever been.
It was dangerous, and I loved it.
Occasionally panic would strike:
Was there a corpse twisted
behind that patch of unkempt grass?
How many steps does it take
to find a hypodermic needle?
But for the most part, I smoked
and I walked, the night air
giving me dark wings and eyes
and I looked into the heart of city.
It was rotting and terrible
but also dynamic and full of life.
That night, I fell in love with the ghetto.
Copyright C. 2008 Frank Ovalle