Nor. Cal. Hood Rat’s End
poetry
Day in the life and life in a day.
Early 90’s hood rat living the
Street Code, morals and ethics
of the ruthless street soldiers.
Roll of twenties in your pocket
ill gotten gains with the rock
residue and a Glock in your waist
band.
Claiming the blue, but the dank cap don’t
quit hide the fear in your eyes. Too
bad the shit didn’t scare you quick
enough to out run the bullets that
cut your gang life short.
So sad you killed the kid you’d been,
the one with the skateboard
and green squirrel Mohawk,
just for some fake hardness and
street cred that paid out in
death.
Your mama and all your friends cradle
your memories in our soft laps. The ones of
the sweet kid before he got sucked into
something too big and too cruel for
his mortal coil to contain.