some nicotine sour nostril dog
sweats out his filthy poncho
huddled behind the runoff
under that overhang
sooty old drugstore with years of signs
under paint on E. 42nd. Just for fun I shout
"Who shot JFK?!"
at muttering bums
how politely they piss
against phone booth glass.
Zooming the bus stop
I spot a boy drenched steady
stream pouring from his head
onto comic book pages
he reads
engrossed
lost
redeemed.
we agree, c & i , that you are a genius. tormented and talented, like all the great artists. again, very evocative -- i gots pictures on my pictures.
ReplyDeletebe careful . . . I have written a poem or two about shoes in my time.
ReplyDelete