Home to
Kids running on pilgrimages until the street lights came on,
Anacostia,
Where you were bound to see ten ice-cream trucks a day,
And a pink pickled egg in someone’s hand.
Everybody knew everybody,
From Barry Farms to Wahler Place
Why so much beef now?
I remember when I discovered abandoned buildings,
Climbing until I couldn’t anymore.
Anacostia,
Where the 94 bus came.
Could you believe it was only 75 cents?
I will never forget–
The holder of my innocent thoughts.
Every day,
I lived in a different game,
From Freaky Friday
To Shame, shame, shame.
Anacostia,
Is a possibility.
Every portion of cracked concrete has a face,
Telling the history of how rich it was and will always be.
“Pinch me because I must be dreaming”
About Anacostia.
Home to culture,
Southeast, and finger-licking memories.
Home to Go-Go.
Anacostia.