Fantasia Poem by robert dickerson

Antonio was a thousand years old and walked on three legs-
He was nothing of the kind, of course, but walked with a cane
Therefore the three legs, the old paison
'We are a thousand years old, groaned each dingy ingot
solemnly and individually, grinding its fellow bone.

Antonio trod the streets of old Havana, filled with bobbing heads.
From lacy balconies above leaned the heavy-lidded senoritas
Around him thronged the honey-skinned cads and roues
eager to leave their wives and babies behind
and taste freedom and anonymity, New York's or Miami's.

In spite of his cane Antonio stumbled one day and fell back flat
in the street. Horns blew, bicycles veered away like papillon.
'Everyone ignores me' he complained to the perfect blue. And that
did seem to be the case as the crowd stepped over and around him
he struggled to his feet and picked up his hat.