Jackets

This city craves another
wave of fog rolling in
over canal street.
While all the grass cutters
and tree trimmers pray
for dryness and a slowly
setting sun.
The high school helper
at a thrift store
sweeps up broken glass
by a useless door
that can’t even keep
the wind out anymore.
She only works there
for a chance to snag
old jackets that arrive
from time to time.
They’ve always made her
feel like she was cooler
than her friends.
The vandal and his shadows
all thrash around on plastic wheels
until they find a place that’s
strange enough to skate all night
and pass around the pipe.
They defend that spot
in many fights crushing beer cans
on bruised foreheads always
afterwards until one day
they are old enough
and the sunrise makes it clear
they should go home.