Knuckle Up

Pedaling. Broken chain held together with duct tape. Basically.
Bike lane. Southbound on Central. Past that run down college with no students.
Janitor in the window cleaning for another busy day of nothing. Green lights. Brake lights. Walk signs with burned out white bulbs. Skyline. Peace of mind. Night time and 70. Cool as Malcom with a fresh pair of shades on. Donald Faison with some J’s on. JD-esque interns at the hospital where another dude got shot playin ball. And they all fall. Down. Dominoes. Order me some slices round these foes. Just playin’. Pass ‘em by with a small wave. Get out the way of a car chase on Liberty. Snap-backs snappin’ back at cop cats. Don’t talk back. Didn’t these fools learn manners? Hold ‘em host-age. Flash the badge and rights read. Better than more bloodshed. Turn the pavement bright red. Make it down to the Ohio through the skycrape bayou. Tumbleweeds made of newspapers tumble down 4th street. Wad’ya have to eat? Horse meat. Bull shit. Alright caught a face full of concrete. Wasn’t paying attention. Or pay no mind. It’s fine. Brush myself off. Torn clothes made of cloth. Wishin’ I fell in some moss. Back to the sidewalk. Part of town where dudes get lined in chalk. Snitches wishin for stiches. Coffins closin. Pirelli’s rollin. My town’s a lady. Queen’s consoling. Every perps patrollin. How ya like me now? No teeth when I smile. You can take me outta Cincy, but I’m still buck wild.

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