Go-a-have Hopscotch
(numbered)
The road crosses twelve times,
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And I see someone smoking one joint.
They see I’ve seen, and it turns and turns,
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Scattered in the air and quenched in the river.
One muttered apology
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(for startling the denizens of town)
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doesn’t make it fly back.
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The alleyways beckon, all three,
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Asking us to ignore the smooth facades,
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Of the world we choose to live in.
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One urine stench and three homeless
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(but not ownerless)
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beds.
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Four piles of clothes and all the weirdest signs;
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The treasure we find colouring outside the lines.
Seven rowers being coached and one tailor that doesn’t talk.
Two staring people and two surveilled dumpsters.
One stair and many stares, that all end in a wall.
One vape and one gaggle of three teens.
Two bird songs and three police sirens.
Twelve fancy lamps and one speeding mass of water.
One gardening glove and five holes in fences.
I-didn't-count-how-many hybrid doves and one stratify –
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Not segregate, you fool!
Three shoes and one sole.
One catholic school and six muddy pools.
Two stanzas and eighty-four-ish counted things.
Go-a-have hopscotch:
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(noun) 1. A common form of art,
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that’s often seen, and misunderstood.
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