Buttoned to the Wrists

by Sarina LaBold

Midnight shades swirl up his neck,

inked tales of brotherhood.

A single scar across one eye

red and inflamed.


Silver studs of rebellion

on his ear and right eyebrow.

A wild eye and baggy jeans,

brass knuckles on his boxers.


Swaggering through the alley,

he hollers to his gang brother

then spits a wad onto the sidewalk

and curses the corner beggar.


With one swift jerk he kicks the mutt

that’s biting at his ankles.

With a yip it bolts, dodging trashcans,

then slows to a limping trot.


Now with a briefcase and geometric tie,

black polished shoes and white smile.


Daily a Jackson to the homeless man

instead of a black eye,

and a walk with the white dog

who led him from crime.




Last Updated: 4/8/13