Poem for My Brother

The bad-boy bully
led the bunch of bikes
and gangbangers
bouncing over
bumps and bends,
gutters and ruts;
grinding the grass.

The bad-boy bully
led them bouncing
over the chubby baby,
over the baby’s belly
in the mud puddle
where he’d fallen,
where he lay wailing.

The bad-boy bully
led them laughing —
laughing! — with a sneer,
like the muddy babe
was dirt. Laughing,
wheeling wild, and
begging for broken.

The bastard bully.

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