The bodega is gone traded for boards

The bodega is gone, traded for boards.

Raw plywood panels with splintering edges

screwed into the brick.

Someone took a fat Sharpie

and wrote KEEP OUT in a hurry,

the letters bleeding into the grain.

It’s the texture of the whole block lately.

Just temporary fixes held together

by rusty hardware and a lack of cash.

Even the wood looks tired of holding the air.