Wednesday, September 10, 2014

poem of the day 09.10.14

homeless guy on the n train

he’s taken up
a residency here

found a place in new york
where the rents won’t put your daydreams into hock

and when he stands to slap box his shadow, man
…see how they run

he’s scaring the stiffs
who get on here every day
with their ten-gallon coffees and smartphones

various scents of whore perfume
and gigolo cologne

enough of a pleasant odor to choke the air
from brooklyn to manhattan

fearful blobs standing huddled
against the poles and doors

powdered faces into scented armpits into
primped coifed hair into manicured fingers

anywhere around him
there’s always a seat to chose

as sea of plastic that he slides up and down

the ghost of christmas yet to come for millions
with his arms flailing and beatific smile on his face

making little kids laugh
when he pulls his dirty green snowcap
over his dirty green face

until their mothers pull them away
throw a video game machine
in their hands 

to beep and blop away the vagrancy    
plucking away at his beard like a fiddle                         

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