Bera Tremoz

On Some Busy Corner

There he was
lonely crow with a
century old rug
on his
century old back
staring with crazed eyes
at his reflection
while others pass him by,
He takes a few steps
stumbles on his feet
loses balance
He gets up
defying gravity
with a bull's might
with glassy stare
with swollen members
with frozen hair
in vain
while others pass him by,
I see him try again
so I interfere and give out
my arm
and say grab on,
With hazy ramblings
and banana peels and
rubbing alcohol
lying by his side
he sat on the stairs,
He doesn't respond to my calls
no name no nothing
I tell him to wait
while i go get him a hot drink
and when i came back
the old man hadn't budged an inch
his five year old beard still
full of bread crumbles
and a face swarmed
with worms breaching out
of its skin,
I say take this
and he grabs, looks at me
Michel Jean is his name
and keeps staring at me
as if the drink wasn't there
warm up if only for a minute old man,
Michel Jean
My name's Al
and I'll be seeing you around.

Poem Submitted: Sunday, October 23, 2005

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