squatting and pumping, practicing
hip-hop, and suddenly everything's getting vivid,
Maybe it's a poem about the two of them,
I'm saying to myself, and then I look up
and there's this other kid hanging over me
he needs some money, his car's
out of gas, it's at the station
to get home, Just a dollar man,
and I'm thinking, God how I hate this,
he must have seen me talking to myself,
moving my hands, and I start to say, No,
but I'm thinking, Jesus, it's only a buck, maybe
he's telling the truth, he looks honest enough, and besides,
he's big, he could take it all if he wanted,
and I'm reaching around for my wallet
when I hear him say, Two dollars, real slow,
continued,
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