Sitting on the

Sitting on the
front stoop told you
who was what. You
had to sit on
the stoop where you
belonged. Only
the hot guys got
to sit at the
top and the dumb
kids sat at the
bottom. All the
fighting went on
in the middle.
I knew where I
fit in on the
stoop. I sat higher
and higher as I
got sharper. I
miss it. I haven’t
known where I am
since I left there.