When Toughs Collide

Big ol' John loomed above,
Wielding weight and a frequent shove,
Till I—reason or cowardice come—
Thought to give up pride and run;

Then wiry Ernie, from air it seemed,
Appeared, and John a coward deemed
In daring him to a different track,
And pushed the menace back.

Ah, how quickly a street-tough is "friend"—
Then back to the street, for there was the end
Of Ernie's love, who, the following day,
Told me to get the hell away.

I did, but first, upon my knees,
Prayed for Ernie—and for no reprise—
Lest again, when toughs collide,
I'll need a friend to save my hide.

© A. M. Siriano, 2003 Sep 29, All Rights Reserved