Read Poem: tennessee crossroads, by Alejandro Lalinde

crossing the tracks
among blue limecitylights and their skinny
cracked brick buildings still testing
time. I
noticed the railroad steam
doesn’t blow anymore, or their anvil
hammers shutter
less with their past echoes, but
with Sassy Ann’s at the
corner
I know Miss Sara will belt out her voice above
the late train’s blowhorn anyday. And

I still am mesmerized past the Tennessee line.

So, we
smoked
to ease our minds – a while, and let
Labron scream & fly
shaving his callused fingertips
along those thin-metal strands of
silver sheath,

to let us waltz on our bare
bended knees —
crawling
to end up on our hands:
dirty.
who cares
for I want to sleep
on these drunken blue streets.

Author: poetryfest

Submit your Poetry to the Festival. Three Options: 1) To post. 2) To have performed by an actor 3) To be made into a film. View all posts by poetryfest