Change Hungry.

My mother’s dress is loose on my shoulders

And tight in the ass.

I could just swim in

My father’s cheap leather Dockers.

Everything in the bluegreen light

Of a nouveau eighteen

Is pawing at the starting gates,

Of the insipid vernacular of

Higher education.

If you’re careful,

You could pick me out of a line of rebels

Of the

Ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch cherry bomb variety.

But only if you’re careful.

I’m just waiting

As the birds on wires

And naked branches

Claw the real life from this city.