Catcher Poem by Tailor Bell
Catcher
There is always
A young woman on the bus
She always tells a joke in swedish
To her spanish girlfriend
About liederhosen, lights
Inside the bus flicker
Just as they start to chuckle
An old man rises
Turning left
The emblem comes in view
From the back
A gunman shifts
And leans across the aisle
Next to me politely sitting, waits
The catcher in the right
Astute quilling, Mr. Bell...You are most certainly providing me with a late New York night/earliest morning of fresh, crisp, quality reading....a rare find these day's, here, i'm afraid! Care to stay for awhile...? Your presence is quite welcome. F j R 2009
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4/25/2024 6:07:49 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Oh Tailor, you've rendered to real in the here and now the star that ********* endlessly searches for in the nightsky of his 'poetic' dreams. You've broken the code of humour mister... I often find myself laughing at your stuff without knowing specifically why on the first - sometimes the seventeenth - run through. Something special - as always. jim