I Am Waiting by the Damned Concrete Riverside, Flint, Michigan

by Hannah Klemkow
The dead in Michigan
carry matches on their hips.
Wooing girls with chemical hair
by way of
stolen Chevrolets.
It’s been years out of the city
to green my leaves again.
You speak in pop can return slips.
You people have got empty faith.
Your God
naps in the police station
I am waiting
by the damned concrete Riverside,
Flint, Michigan.
We can sing
It’s not an impossible dream.
We’ve met the dandelions here
in sidewalk cracks.
We’ve all laid foot to the blooming brick.