he was shot to death twenty-six years ago.
so many moons it has been. but still he does
not believe himself to be dead.
he could never die.
he would never die.
how invincible are the boys these days.
so when the shots rang
out over hot summer
west side streets
he was sure it
and if a small crowd gathered to
watch his blood-drenched body
turn the hot & dirty dark concrete
a crimson red, he never would have
known – for he was already
high up in the hills – four
legs bounding – walking
dry earth for