The Bricks (For Banksy) Poem by Butch Decatoria

A Gigolo leans
Against the bricks,
Gotham gothic walls
Left thumb hooked on a pocket of his
Faded denim jeans
Right hand caressing a carnation
Steady

Ready to go
Mr. Gigolo in a James Dean glow

Mean
Black leather jacket
Shiny slick like
Ghetto pothole puddles
Wet lacking rain

Only street lamp
a Spot light on
Backstreet dangerous
Yo bro gigalo leans
A flower for Ms. Green

Come hither squeeze

He awaits
There in the sallow
Glow
Another shadow
Against the bricks
Graffiti biography
Cannon spray paint art
Masterpieces
Within all our living scenes

He's Cool as concrete rain
Patient as evening tea,
Passing moments
A Smiley face
Honest sculptures of Race
Poetry is exploding
Street Gleam in 3D
Looking sharp

Art full / appreciating
brick walls
The breathless wolf
In his low gigolo lean
Worth noticing?

Life's but a dream
/ a living work of Art.

(For Banksy, I heart…)