On a dull street corner,
two Wonder Bread-fed suburban kids
dressed in gang-approved urban garb
try to twine their tongues into a rope braid.
While her chubby hands clasp his slender buttocks,
his are under her arms
in that no man's zone between breast and pit,
but you're not sure
why you can't look away,
or if that sucking sound you hear
comes from them
or the pleasant wasteland around you.
But you secretly suspect
by some freak flaw in this tattered universe
to create a dream-imploding vortex
by hoovering each other's faces.