Do-Wop Dreams
Wesley and the Smith brothers
straightened and processed their hair
into waves and huge pompadours,
styled in the latest shark skin suits
and Stacey Adams or Florsheims
to get that Jackie Wilson,
or hip Temptations look they swore
would drive the ladies wild.
They skated sideways,
like James Brown across stage,
outside on the schoolyard
or in the hall between classes,
winking at high school beauties
who smiled in admiration,
or stuck their noses in the air
in disgust of this ghetto flare.
They sang down on bended knees
near the basketball courts,
too clean to suit up for gym.
Didn’t want one hair out of place
on them processes and marcels
to cramp their styles and ruin
their reps when they stepped
to the neighborhood cuties.
Wesley and the Smith brothers
never saw their names in neon lights.
Their doo-wop dreams faded
into the real world of work clothes,
lunch pails, and time clocks.
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