Tattoos-
A lawn chair
On the forearm,
On the shoulder the
Metaphysics
Of river birds,
Melody for a toy piano
Near the ankle.
Clothes-
The attire is simple and cut
To fit,
No shoes
But the idea of shoes.
Appetite-
Hunger like a table crowded with empty bowls.
Metaphysics-
The cosmos on the lips,
I breath in theology through nostrils,
Pull its lint out of my belly button.
Meaning:
The real is put aside
Like a bell on the ground,
Sleeves pulled to the moon.
In Conclusion-
The idea was to
Stick around long enough to see
Dusk pushing a shopping cart downhill.
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Really enjoying this one, Bob!
No shoes
But the idea of shoes
(being particularly striking and amusing – for some reason I can’t quite fathom! Excellent!)
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Thanks Nick! I’m glad you liked it. And I’m glad you thought that line was both striking and amusing, that’s what I was hoping for.
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Magic Sam went through a period in the 90s of gadding about town with no shoes on. I could never quite decide what I made of that! Was it affectation, creeping madness, the height of punk rock hippy cool? In a weird way it was all three. This was no country bumpkin sandy street seaside town! This was hound-shite, broken glass & chicken bone town. ‘But the idea of shoes’ to him, just then, seemed ridiculous, I suppose?!
Thanks again for your words.
All best, Nick.
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That’s a great story. The 90’s were similar for me. Lots of characters in our post industrial, rust belt city…but call me crazy if I didn’t see it all as kind of poetic. Magic Sam seems like an interesting person.
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I love the structure of this poem. Lyrical and smart. Well done!
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I’m glad you think so. Thank you!
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