The Sweet Life, by Josh Pearce
It’s a
cool
(mint moon)
night
with the leaves
making streetlights watery
like hard
apple candy.
A cruiser goes by
on licorice tires,
goes by the boys
smoking their marshmallow
cigarettes
in the doorway
pop bottle pop rocket in one hand
the other hand gathering
scoops of soft sticky cloud
burning smell
as it rises from their mouths.
Your shadow meets
your feet
like you’re standing in a hole
like you’re stuck and sinking
into the suck and stink
of the asphalt
molasses
and all the girls go by
flashes of pink and sweet
in their dresses like spun sugar
that you could just lick
off their bodies.
All the girls go by the boys
they’re upstairs in the club
and we’re not
but that’s okay cause those
slick silk dresses will just melt
off them
sweated away if the beat
is hard enough.
The sweet life
it’ll rot all the teeth
right out of your grin
leave your skeleton
petrified into sugar cane,
your skull a day of the dead
treat for the living to gnaw on,
thirsty and desperate for the
sour chew center.
illustration is Carmel Market in Tel – Aviv, Geography of Israel by Yehudit Garinkol via the PikiWiki – Israel free image collection project
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