Out Mugging
Robert E. Jordan
We sit out on our stoop at night,
people out walking in the street,
sidewalk skirting for fear we might
hurt or badger them for a treat.
We scream at them our injured spite,
they walk on by with footsteps fleet.
Sitting there holding Joannie close,
I tell her about last night's fun.
How the gang left a man morose,
threatened him with a wooden gun,
we assailed him with shouts verbose,
shaking, he was too scared to run.
Don cleaned his wallet, took his cash,
Tom pulled a gold watch off his arm.
I ripped his shirt, an action brash,
took his metal, a lucky charm.
We pushed him in a pile of trash;
told him to leave, we meant no harm.
Joannie laughed till her tears ran down,
said we're the meanest kids around,
a threat to the health of our town.
She and I were neighborhood bound;
minds ill clad in the hoods poor gown,
our dearth of thought seemed so profound.
