excerpt from a poem by Jennifer Leider
grimed streetlamps light
pavement plagued with glass
straining—the moon doesn’t come around here
police sirens sing strawberry blueberry
and your hair smells like papaya
in the skulking night gangs
baby-faced boys with jutting chins
hoping guns turn them men
they won’t bother us anyways
this bodega smells like
donkeys and cigarettes and sulfur
we heave ourselves over the fence
to the neighborhood pool
your dad thinks you like boys
Read the rest of Jennifer’s poem in the upcoming S/tick Issue 4.2!
In the meantime, check out Jennifer’s Instagram @followtheleider.
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