Frisco Hearbeat

Fris…CO!
Fris…CO!
Fris…CO!
Fris…CO!

Kinda sounds like
A heartbeat

Kinda sounds
Like the drum that
Lives in the deepest
Deep of you

Kinda feels like
Memories moving
Across the skin

Last time I saw
You you fell into
A pothole

Done disappeared
Before our eyes

I remember you got
Shot 4 times and rose
From the dead lead
Obituary section that
Didn’t hold enough space
To tell your story

A veterano
A warrior
A lover

A poet whose
verses and curses
conduct harmonies
on both sides of the coin

a walking juke
box of Frisco feelings
and Frisco songs

Winner of the
Quadruple purple
Motherfuckin’ heart

Visible only to
Those who speak
With Frisco eyes

Who earned the right
To be kissed, embraced,
Caressed by Frisco
Shadows

Who earned the right
To call it Frisco

So many Frisco
PHD’s

So many
Potholes

So many
Heartbeats

Fris…CO!
Fris…CO!
Fris…CO!

© 2016 Tony Robles

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