Where I’m from

You can hear…

The thundering roar of the 4 train

Over the screams of my boys as they yell

“A-Yo!”

“AAAAA-Yoooooooo!!!”

Pigeons “RRRRRRRRRRR” as they watch overhead

Waiting to swoop down from the street light

For a free meal of your dropped breakfast

Where I’m from

You can see…

Kids playing skelzies as they blast each other’s cap across the hot blacktop

A game of rough touch football

Where the sewer is the touchdown and the

Parked cars are out of bounds

Single mothers rushing with their kids to the bus stop, “T, hurry up we’re goin’ miss the…”

Brick buildings are the canvas for graffiti artists as the pay homage to the dead

“Rest in Peace from the 3^rd”

Where I’m from

You can smell…

Farina with cinnamon, as mom stirs it ever so slowly so it doesn’t get lumpy

Café Bustelo, as mom runs into the kitchen, yelling “The milk, la leche, turn off the stove!”

The scent of Mistolin, as Dolly, the super, mops the building

The stench of trash as the Garbage truck idles right in front of you

Where I’m from

You can feel…

The warmth of the sun as it passes through the ripped shades

The bass of the cars music, waking you up as it vibrates and sets off every car alarm on the block

Sleep in your eyes, knowing you should’ve come home earlier last night

Ahhh, but to be young and free

Knowing you’ll be back out tonight and sleep will have to wait

Where I’m from

You can taste…

The dryness in your mouth that is a desert

Onions mixed with cheese and ketchup and fries

As you remember that you had may too many White Castle murder burgers last night

Colgate toothpaste washing away all the sins of the night

Mom’s avena, with the log of a cinnamon stick

That hits the spot just right