viva lost hood

he was tall

he had a great frame

i remember what his shoulders looked like in the dark

some sort of tale

that lingered on

for too long

the cars went by

fast around the corner

in that house

in that house

you could hear almost every sound

the neighbors walking by

the dogs fighting

the rain dancing

across the tin roofs

children with sticks hitting the chain-link fence

people making love

above you

alongside you

inside you

i slept on the couch

without making a sound

always to music

(viva lost hood)

there were times when we would gather

in the living room

and just laugh and laugh

about someone's antics

or we would go out at night

together

our crew

our clan

and wear bands around our heads

arms in the air

and roam Sacramento

as if everything was brand new to us

(because it was)

and we would sometimes sit on the roof

and watch the sky

turn into code

mumble either confessions

or make out

or draw on the white tile

until the building fell apart

and we would hide it in the trees

(until they chopped it down)

i would lay on the carpet floor

and hum along to music that

i had just discovered

or remember that time

John got me to smoke out of a bong

for the (first) time

and we "discovered" Portishead

and afterwards

awkward commenced

(to which he then left)

and i was free to be high

and alone