by Adam J. Rodriguez

 

	Let's cross the avenues slowly dear past the blacks and whites, keep our distance as they encircle the night in the primal throes of December heat. Boys in the mirror of men, and onlookers all transfixed on a bare-chested Latino boy curled and recoiled in his afterbirth, nixed in the spotlight, motionless on bloodied ground, running murmurs into the sewer. Microcosmic America on the pearl's skin, I turn in to see my face among wasted embers and forged steel, quietly drifitng into the night. I did not want to become a man, I did not want to become a man this way.

 

	"Mill Avenue Murmurs" © 1996 by Adam J. Rodriguez
	Original Graphics © 1996 by Jim Davis-Rosenthal

 

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