We all lose then

Angels in converse hightops shot hoops
across the street from  the MacAvinnue School
almost every night from June to August.

Miguels trash talked them in demon hisses
when i drove by slow, I could hear them
say mean-sounding spanish words

When school approached, i could hear
their fresh afro's spinning and twisting
swishing as they missed their shots

No better now than two months earlier,
but more intense - as if the flames of hell
might remove the skin from the bottoms
of their near-man-sized feet.

There is no winner, I thought
no loser, until the knives are drawn
and some boy's arrested by some cop named Reilly.