A Slice of Life
Every day in the shank of the afternoon when the sun is drooping low
It’s the same show with the same characters on the corner by shelter
The bus groans to a stop and there she is, their queen with her high-top sneakers,
Purple fish-nets, hot pink mini skirt, and her school-bag of books
The homeless men part as she glides on over to the fire-escape
Getting ready to climb; she’s always so sweet to them – passes out what’s left
Of her lunch, talks a minute or two, checks in
The escape is rusted and dangerous, falling apart
But they know it’s infinitely better than the muddy
Staircase inside her building
And the super she’d have to scoot past there – him with
His hook where his arm used to be and his lewd
“Hey doll – how’s about a kiss,” as he’d make another grab for her ass
Once, they heard him yell, “Sweetheart c’mon you’re drivin’ me out of my gourd ...”
The men agreed unanimously what they would like to do to his gourd alright
But instead, they respect their gal, treat her like gold, admire her pluck
Wonder at one that manages to stay so sweet, never utter a bitter word ...
It’s as if out of all the squalor, she manages to extract
One perfect glossy moment every day,
A moment in time just for them to look forward to, then savour
What a marvellous story-poem. And I love the picture at the top of your blog. Can you identify it for us? It's kinda familiar but I can't pin it down.
ReplyDeleteA great wander! Love the immediacy of the scene.
ReplyDeleteThis was thoroughly enjoyable! So colorful, and with a satisfying end!
ReplyDelete