Black Poetry : Corner Store

tbone5769

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May 21, 2001
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NC
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Systems Engineer
Corner store..

A loaf of bread…. carton of milk, and you can keep the change.
turned out to be about 25 cents short of a dollar. So it’s cool.
I make my walk to the corner store, where I have been many times before.
The place where you get sent, when all the money’s spent, but there’s just enough left till momma gets her check.
As I look back…. it seems to me 5 dollars should have bought more than that. I mean the Milk wasn’t even a gallon! But I was happy the milk was whole instead of concentrated, **** I hated, or powdered, or skim….. the lights of those memories tend to get dim.
About two blocks if that, what up black? I shouted from across the street, a ***** with a small grocery bag, looking just like me, he looked harmless, but ****** round here be shady, so I’ll nod my head and make a quick left, or is it a right, hard to tell in the dark of the night,.. Through the backyard of another, German Shepard barking, King, Rex, or was it Sheba? Not sure but that chain looks a little rusty.
through the path of dirt I run, like a fool with a bag full of money, and a smoking gun.
But that dog’s bark seems to get louder, so I don’t look back, I just run.
Back on the street, and I can see the lights from the corner store.
Beep Beep, from the street, what up now, with a nod of my head? careful not to wave my hand, dangerous motions and leave a brotha dead.,
In this part of town the question remains What set you claim? So to be safe, a simple nod will do, in the Human Zoo.
I arrive at the Corner store, but wait let me hang for a sec, see whats happening in the lot,
but I almost forgot, momma need that grocery list filled before 10 o’clock.
So let me walk in, and pick up my list, rolled out the 5 spot clinched in my fist.
Made sure I made my main purchase before I added my penny candy.
75 cents hmmm let me split that on some lemon heads…..some now and laters, some of them grape chews oh yeah and hook me up with some of them tootsie rolls, do I have enough for a cinnamon roll? No, I didn’t think so, bagged up my sugar fix, so it’s time to split. No eye contact with the hustlers, don’t want to be the next “vic”, but can’t show I’m afraid, not scared cause there is a difference. I start my journey, and try to ignore the pop pop of a nine, I rub my chest to make sure it still has breath, sirens roar on, to the spot where I just left,
must be another visit from the Angel of death,
and as I get farther away from that corner store, I feel like I’m getting back to normality, and when I get to my porch I look to the sky and thank God, I wasn’t another Corner store Casualty.

Copyright © 2001 T.L. Stevens
 

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