Ariono-jovan Labu

At 17 calls himself dinosaur; a rare breed.
Charcoal hoodie
head covered an orange bandito- style T- shirt
to tame his bronze- dyed Rasta dreads.
Bloodshot- cannibalistic eyes
took a long swig his syrup
(Robitussin chased with Hennessey)
cigarro filled sugar- frosted broccoli advertised
in his left ear. Creased black 501's hanging
half off his ass & matching Jordan's.
Pulled a swollen wad from his pocket,
had to easily be 5 grand, pilled 20 & sent
some dope fiend off to fetch him a catfish plate
extra side of greens, red beans/ rice
from DD's soul shack.

"It's done got ugly as Baghdad out
here in the jungles family. I mean
American Gangsta
without scripts & actors! But I'm getting it-
getting in where I fit in, ya dig?."

Lifting the tail of his hoodie had
2 automatic glocks burrowed the waistline.
Said how he'd been making good on his own
since last i saw him. Vowed he'd never go
starving again slanging that 80 percent pura
with only a pinch of baking soda. How his bro
got mowed down by choppers on the block,
stapled more holes than Swiss cheese
the previous year in a drive- by. Wanted to
convince me he was immune to pain-
pointed out scars etched his face, how he'd been
shot 3 times, stabbed & pounded mercilessly a
wooden Louisville Slugger. How he'd made
an oath to stacking paper, living life in 6th gear
always a few degrees shy the mortuary.

Promised me what happened on the block
last night on 19th & Randolph near
the corner Arabian liquor bank
wasn't some accidental street skirmish, wasn't no
dope deal gone bad like reported
the channel 7 evening news. That some j- cat
from the other- side got caught
spray painting over names the bricked wall
of dead homies. How the young savages beat dude
into a lump of pulp, a coma. That dude had to
be airlifted to USF Medical on life support.
Giggled at the mention of how dude's pockets
were turned inside- out, how they branded
"L- MOB" across his chest with a lighter flame,
drenched him in mucus & urine.

But i remember when lil Julio wasn't so tough-
was that ashy elbowed & kneed
nappy- head, snotty- noised runt
panhandling in front of Safeway. Washing windows
with Windex & newsprint, pumping gas
for change at Chevron. Well before the mouth
of metallic teeth, ice & platinum charms
decorating his fingers/ wrists & neck.
Before the ol' school candy- cocaine 69' Cougar
on 24' inch chrome spinning rims. Before his
momma passed from a heroine overdose.
Before the brief stints in Juvenile Hall when
his hobby involved hotwiring, jacking cars,
or he was on the run like a fugitive from
orphanages, foster homes, boot & fire camps.

i wanted to tell Julio dude died early
that morning but knew it wouldn't have moved
him into remorse. Knew he wouldn't have displayed
an ounce of pity playing stone tough. Julio was
a "Nobodies Kid" who had lost any connection
the civilized world. There was no sense of logic,
no need for reason in his demented mind. No morals
to debate his daily activities, question his conscience.
No God to disobey, to answer to. The perfect model
of contemporary Darwinism theory; a primate
with an amazing adaptation for survival. Another
spiritually bankrupt- byproduct a luvless/ filthy &
sinister environment. Though still don't buy
he isn't sensitive to pain or grief, i do believe he
ain't the slightest scared of death.

erikestabrook

Ariono this was perfect in theme and metaphors,
a ganbanger story, so eloquently worded,
I'll review the rest of your poems as they'll be a treat
a lil latter this one was very cool, every word

Benny

Extremely well written! Tough watching listless eyes and empty hearts become their own god within a tinfoil world...very well done, my friend.

zaac

this reads a little like sista souljahs stuff. write on

zaac