Driving by the dull of day, we wait, for thems and whos and yous to run the night to cross the lines we’ve drilled without a gate— iron borders unseen in LA light. Sirens whip the wheels, a dose of speed— we breathe in blurs of time, past memories Fifteen years old (I rode for past and creed to hunt the board, stone gray, my only me) A look aside, I catch my carved out face, a hard-earned look, a portrait of street fate.
HANNAH COOPER
STREET PACE, A SONNET TO THE STREETS
Engine revving signals it’s time to go begin the game, the blue blood war of bones shadow targets whisper and taunt, get low a part of backseat leather, I am unknown.
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