It’s concrete,

Living and breathing,

Speaking rhythms,

And shouting words,

A street that beats,

To the drop-pop,

Of Hyrdualic funk,

That pumps the soul,

 Mixed with flavors,

 Running forever,

Stained with blood,

Burned in fire,

Facing the hate,

While holding love,

Rising always,

Rising on the backs,

Of the people,

Driving the strip,

Under changing skies,

Working, eating,

Loving, Hoping,

For life lived,

On the ‘Shaw

Photo by Troy Tieuel