5:47 AM: the Town you Grew Up In by Tony DeGenaro

is not the town you live in,
trees be-speckled with glass
stands in rigor mortis while
you walk, rigorous, to beat sunrise
to clock in, and look, kid, where you
rode your bike Athletics All-Stars
baseball card motor kid
where you bought gum and wooden
airplanes (you used to soar, kid)
and where your bike betrayed
You, kid, you’re a million bruises
from that Rollie Fingers’ sticking in your
spokes.

By 5:52 you’re through your first
last cigarette of the day, and the
birds have begun pulling spring
by their beaks back to us, have
begun to sing their songs as if note
by chipper note would take us from
the mortuary floating in over the Great
Lakes, tucking us under a satin, frosty
cloth.

Look kid, you found your wings:

You watch yourself this morning
in reflections of your deathly shape
staring up from each slicked over
puddle of ice, sidewalks by side
walk. It don’t rise from the ashes.

So barefoot let’s step out of these shards.


Tony DeGenaro is a full-time poet & part-time barista. His work has been seen
in many to-go cups, as well as for-here mugs; his writing has been published
internationally.