Any Weekend I Could Escape Gravel

Joint high and music driven

Kansas City lights guided me

to the rock vibrations

of Cowtown Palace.

Thirty first and Gillham

was the hum lane of engines

seeking the golden calf

of guitar jubilation.

Wood and concrete supported

hip to hip drug angels absorbing

tunes through every pore of flesh

and brain wave that worshiped rhythm.

Any weekend I could escape gravel

I traveled asphalt to a Kansas City Ballroom

where in the crush of dancing bodies

I felt forever twenty-one.

 ©Susie Clevenger 2019

#NaPoWriMo2019

Real Toads ~ The Streets (of Brooklyn)

Not the Same Playground

I was the fat girl,

you know the one

with the ruddy cheeks,

crooked teeth, and

thighs in constant chafe.

Bullies, yes, there were bullies.

They brought names, stones,

and an entourage of gigglers

giddy they weren’t the target.

Oh, but I’m no longer ten,

I’ve sharpened my tongue,

and dark gleamed my eyes.

If they want to reminisce

about how the chubby girl cried,

karma may write a new story.

#NaPoWriMo2019

Real Toads ~ Poems in April ! Riddikulus!