Red Brick-A Poem

I wanna be a red brick. Serves as the close companion to a limestone foundation. The brick that is the heart of a historic cobble stone street. The brick bad ass adolescents throw through your window. Or the one who in violence meets your cheek. Yeah, a red brick. Solid at its core. A red brick that makes up the curb at Davis and McLemore. A solid red brick. Not the ones with the two holes in it. One vacant lots, holding up a bed with no rails. The walls of a hearth for the homeless to dwell. Yeah, I really wanna be a red brick. Buried deep in a landfill, not this California stucco shit. I'm real. The one who saved the third pig, I am significant. I am of this Earth yet made by man. I am...a red brick.