Teenager, On the Way

Teenager, On the Way

to school, at the light.
The bass beat rocks the car
and hums the street.
Behind me, two girls
in an old Mercedes,
in front, unabashed
by the taped taillight,
and hanging half out
the open window
in delight,
a jaunty salute
over the hood of my car.
A crinkling of eyes
the buzz cut hair
the muscled wave
of a tee-shirted arm
before the light changes
and he is off,
a blast into the ether
of the curve out of sight,
as quick as that.

At the Teenage Corner

White socked boys

in rolled up jeans

slick their hair and

sway and preen

while teasing,

petticoated girls

swing their skirts

and twirl their curls

in time

with the music

at the Teenage Corner.

We belly crawl

the littered path

clap hands on mouths,

try not to laugh,

beneath the porch

we quietly crouch

to watch them court,

making time

with the music

at the Teenage Corner.

Danger circles up above

flipping dimes and

keeping time,

brushing multicolored skirts

against bare legs

that tease and flirt

as they roll

with the beat

of the music

at the Teenage Corner.

We hold our breaths,

and cover our faces,

fearing and longing

for the days when

we will own

the summer nights

and the magic jukebox lights

and the dreams

of Memphis kings

and the mystery

and the music

of the Teenage Corner.