“These parents are oblivious to what their kids are doing”
rained down angrily
the words from the officer’s lips.
Red and blue flashes
painting the night with madness
Her toe nudged the cup,
crumpled red plastic,
S-O-L-leading into a crack,
wet with the last vestiges of foam,
the suds from the dance of malt upon hops,
of fluid hips in rhythms on the crisp air of the night.
Now is the time for regret,
with roads unlimited
spread in the vista of her broadening horizon.
Now she is young,
full of life and love and spirit and fire indomitable,
but rather fanned with the regret
of opportunities lost by her parents.