Angelo Street
cracked golden leaves float in the stormwater
gonna get the tail ends of my jeans soaked
these cute citizens walk on red pavers
their shades more expensive; muscles bigger
and it rains on Angelo Street as I drive
anything I love I hate as much in kind
I wait for five to throw back six and wonder
why the holiday pennies won’t stack up
and the taste of all that cheap salt is sweet
until I want to crack my skull on the mirror
and the rain on Angelo Street reminds me
that whatever I love I hate as much in kind
and I trusted someone enough to spill my guts once
I said it took balls to do something like that
and you curled your lip and said “yes,
but it’s not as if you’ll be needing those anymore, right?”
and I haven’t stopped running since
and this tug of war can never end
your arms in bed reanimate my cold-blooded heart
but those kisses on my neck crush my windpipe
we lived here together as brothers once
and we will never be brothers again
and it rains on Angelo Street as I die
any time I am loved I am hated as much in kind
Words © Holden Sheppard 2018
Photo “Gold Leaf Rain” © Sylvia Valentine