Sunday, March 29, 2015

The Hearty Drunk (1997, St. Paul, Minnesota)

He was a hearty old drunk, with dart holes in his nose—
Humorous at times, I had seen him a dozen times before, throughout the city!
A man with a strut cane, to balance his walk—
A watch and chain that hung inside his waistcoat!
A silver tooth, and a dandelion in his buttonhole suit.
His thumb and fingers all had cracked nails.
He smoked Pall Mall cigarettes.
Always shook his coat to find where the matches were.
He had more bad habits, than Briar Rabbet!
Scratching his bald head, as if a thought had come to him—
The old hearty drunk, stopped in the middle of a crosswalk, smiled at me ‘I bet he would’
I was in my Catholic. It was a pale bleak moment.
I stopped on the green, he found his matches, to light his cigarette, and a car went around me, cut off his thumb as he lit…
Then turned his head in a mincing-manner, towards me, as if intended to ask ‘What just happened,’ as his thumb hung on a thread of flesh.

No: 4742 (3-29-2015)