Rosario Bird

“Ghetto Balcony”

”Clothes catching the air which smells like detergent, your mother washed loads of this with her spiritual hands. Ghetto balcony, don’t fall over. One day you heard the reds and grays of the cops from up there; 7th floor, who were they arresting now? One day you heard the music that used to play when your parents were young; 22 and 23. Ghetto balcony, don’t fall over. One night, on a nice cool summer night, around midnight you seen a couple have their first kiss, first touch, first everything from up there, in a black car with dirty rims parked on the corner, shaking like a soda bottle and erupting with one scream. Ghetto balcony, don’t fall over..