A Pub In DC

 
In our hang out in DC
The post office rockets in the skies
Whiles the Police station tower
Counting the hours of crime
In our time like a fine rhyme.
.
The DC Pub stretches towards
A snaky road that connects
The community market’s annex.

In this Pub, DC brags about
Being the best among the rest
Of neighborhoods in the city.

Inside this Pub some days
We perch
To take some reasons,
And some other time
To make some decisions.

One Sunday
When everybody
Who is somebody
Was right in there,
A group of glittering
Teenage girls trooped in,
At the same time a rhyme
Invaded the speakers.

Hip Hop souls was playing
The fouls of DC.
I was praying for Musah
Who was shot dead by a Police
Man sitting behind me and
Acting like a nice man.

“What helps the youth to cope the Herb,
“What gives the youth the hope the Herb”

The teenage girls were singing
Along side the DJ,
Most of them blinking.

An Elderly man in a spiral
Of his own smoke,
Whiling away time
Got caught in the rhyme.
This is DC he puffed out.
Smiling.

Then Clara cat-walked to him
“Teddy is been killed in Iraq.”
His smiles faded out and
Walked out of The Pub in DC
Not the happy man
He was a moment ago.