poem: Adam Falkner
Batman and Robin (Most Dangerous Game)
Fulton.
There is a boy that rides the G train with me every morning
on my way to work. He totes alongside him
a younger brother of maybe 7 years, whom he drags
by his Batman backpack like a stubborn puppy
throughout the car. They both wear marshmallow bubble-goose
jackets and alien Nikes made of planet glow and neon.
Classon Ave.
The smaller boy bounces to the high hats crackling
like pan grease from his headphones for the entire car to hear.
He is all bobble-knees and filled with flirt – ripe, silly, he whispers
an inaudible 16 bars that grow in volume when he knows
he knows the words. His jacket sleeves rag doll swing at his sides,
arms pretzeled at his chest beneath the fabric.
Bedford-Nostrand Aves.
The larger boy is silent. Always.
Head band Saturned around his fade like a halo,
a basketball glued to his palms. Scalpels in his eyes
sharpen sparks at every stranger that he notices
studying his sibling like a rare species in a tank, which, he knows,
perhaps they are both becoming. The ground beneath them
shifting like an upset stomach, new earth breaking
for condos and coffee shops and other picket fences
they will never visit but change their footpaths to school for
until they finally get it right. He looks at nothing else
for the entire ride, occasionally glancing out the window
to check the stop. Sometimes, I catch him watching me.
He eats hot fries and a beef patty for breakfast
while he stands on guard and waits.
They are fierce, these boys. Warriors with eyes in their teeth
and dragon scale stories beneath their shirts.
Comfortable with cornerless and movement –
they are Brooklyn’s most dangerous game.
Broadway.
The doors glide open to an ocean of strangers.
The older boy grabs his brother’s wrist to take the plunge.
Hot fry residue and powder on their fingerprints,
they squeeze each other’s hands for dear life.
ADAM FALKNER is a multiple-time member and coach of national poetry slam teams representing the youth community of Ann Arbor, The University of Michigan and the legendary Nuyorican Poets Café in New York City, where he was a 2008/2009 Writer-in-Residence. Adam’s work has appeared in anthologies and journals such as Unsquared (826 Publications, 2006), The Barberhshop Chronicles (Penmanship Books, 2008), decomP Magazine, Gigantic Sequins, The Other Journal, Lamplighter Review and others, and has been featured on HBO, BET and Michigan Public Radio. He currently teachers 11th and 12th grade English/Creative Writing in Bushwick, Brooklyn.