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Deep Deep Dark

by Alice Folkart

She gets off the bus by the park,
it’s almost dark, it’s dark, it’s dark,
there are always men in the park,
in the dark, dark, dark,
some in the light, having a fight
or playing baseball, strike one.
Some men run and run and run,
around the track, in and out
of the light, forth and back,
no desire to fight, ready for flight
in the dark, in the heart of the park,
where a man, a shadow guy
evades her eye, and steps behind a tree,
to pee, I see her watch, his reach for crotch,
zipper and stance, she in a trance
the stream, caught in a beam of golden light
the cops stream in to stop the fight,
runners in full flight, they cuss the bus
for the cloud of grime, but it’s time
that she goes home, escapes the park,
emerges from the deep, deep dark.

Posted in Poetry

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