"Nathaniel Neighborhood"
Naughty children in a blue pool to his dead market near cheap thrills,
Bachata consumed desert-cream akin on portable summer grills:
Of freedom activities your basis flows above wind high,
More disappearance of toys while darkness covers hands uniform sky;
Lost from wisdom as counts during age my fall outside golden reals,
Magic’s temperature onward daisy families to get Cupid deals.
*It’s an abstraction of my little brother’s neighborhood. I assumed personal grammar here because of my mind’s warping into other languages and dialects and I was enthused about specific ideas that would molde on to each other in my mysterious experiences. My brother himself does not appreciate this poem because he is the kind of blue collar worker who would rather get things done himself as opposed to sitting in a place while listening to someone observe his intelligence. I’d of course tell him, “If I’m talking about your life and you don’t understand my talk, then why are you living your life?”
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cupid
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