Jeremy was a better looking Gary Coleman.
He said it was safer for me to wait in the car.
A tall, lanky white girl,
did not belong in the -gated window,
swisher smoking, brown bag drinking- hood.
Five years below legal, high on life and substance,
we slammed 40’s of Steel Reserve and King Cobra,
mixed drinks, and races,
chain smoked packs of Newport menthols,
rolled blunts, packed bowls.
If our parents only knew,
we thought we had them fooled.
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