On A Bench

One of the first poems I wrote at the age of fifteen, I decided not to change much of it.

Taking residence on lead green painted bench
concrete pavement next to the green grass patches
of the Courtyard House of Downtown Versailles

Teenage Loitering kids riding bikes
From downtown street ghettos and worn-down
 trailer parks

Wearing pajamas and a over-sized red sweater
I'm reading long, translucent poems of Blake
Taking occasional glances of the blue red yellow neon lights
of the local Royal
Waiting for High-school McBeth satire play
Because of a promise
made for a small blonde-hair blue-eyed girl
Who I danced through the mid-morning parking lot with
Thinking I would fall for the Dance