in city summers we bathed in
asphalt fumes and yellow street light hues
dirtied skinny knees in the damp
earth by pennypack creek and
picked ticks like flowers from our hair
in thick, tar-fused junes
we purpled shins on bike pedals
glossed our lips with grape icees
smoked candy cigarettes while our
mothers gossiped on concrete doorsteps
the season marked itself
in block party concerts, overcooked
hotdogs, parents drinking beer from
glass bottles while we ran barefoot
drinking from tapped fire hydrants
and when the dust of summer
settled in the junked up alleys
behind our streets we iced our
bruises and watched the sun
drink in the last of our long days
Magic Mama 