garibaldi
I was walking
Behind a girl
She was accosted
By a tramp
Who asked her
For some change
The girl stopped
And said to the tramp
To wait there
While she went into the shop
I stood back
Sensing a poem
Unfolding
Like a flower in the rain
The girl emerged
With a pack of biscuits
And a coffee
And gave them to the tramp
Who promptly threw them
On the ground
And screamed
What the fuck
Am I supposed to do
With that shit?
Have you got
Any money
In that tight little ass?
(which in itself made no sense)
She ran off
Crying
While I walked past the tramp
Picked up the biscuits
And ate half the pack.
I suppose
How much you enjoy
Your life
Corresponds
To how well
You cope with the injustices.
Stu Buck
Tue 6th Oct 2015 10:53
bloody hell, where to start...
i'll stay out of the debates i think although if a poem can bring about such discussion i suppose thats a good thing!
thanks for all your positive comments.
ledger - i wrote a blog this week about charles bukowski, who i regard to be the master of the 'close'. maybe some of it rubbed off.
i'll post the link below if anyone fancies a gander.
https://medium.com/@Under_the_Fable/find-what-you-love-and-let-it-kill-you-charles-bukowski-2beac3e73c5