Stone Cold Truth
Where are you my childhood homies?
It’s been over thirty years since we got together
I always knew you guys would never leave Livingston
That blister of a town oozing with fields, but hey
Have you forgotten about
Swimming in the little canals
After working our young asses- off
In the hot and dry summer fields?
Or zooming around on Stingray bikes
On the back-road avenues of
Sunset, Westside, Longview and Rose
Where the hawk, quail and crow
Still dazzled with their winged shows?
Do you guys remember Saturday nights
Shaking- a- leg at the Portuguese Hall
The hippest coolest pony’s
High-stepping in platform boots and
Skintight funky polyester shirts
Cutting up the floor to
The beat of the Rhythm Blenders?
Do you guy’s ever cruise in your mind
Through downtown Merced
A car full of liquored laughter
Wrapped in Santana and Motown jams
Coming of age through Marijuana eyes?
My childhood homies
Sons of a prospect-less rural town
Let us re-unite and celebrate how
A few of us in some measure
Have defunct the prophecies
Of some community snobs
With their obscure crystal balls
Hissing like rattlers in our thoughts growing-up
Through venomous words, deeds and actions:
“Little brown boys, dreams for you shall never come true”
poem by Manny Moreno
Added by Poetry Lover
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