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August, 2003

at 1:00am,

a group of noisy kids walks by
   and the window goes down.
not a peep is heard from the neighbors
   all of whom must be kept up—
but nothing. not a thing.

as if no one wanted to make a move,
as if ____ ____ sight came to light
      and retaliation set in.

no one wants to take the chance
   of getting shot at,
or objects thrown at their house.
a fair assumption
   about my side of town?

"Good Caesar! Good Caesar!"
   she yells in my head, excited.
and I just know
   she's talking about a salad.

   will the pizza days never end?
since I was 16
     two to three times a week
   I have pizza.
      and Paul wants his book soon.




© 2003 by the respective poets