Member-only story
poem
On the street they pray
Hands out
Palms up
They do it all day
Got change, a cigarette stray
Inclement of weather
Estranged
With mange
Enslaved in their ideals
Not to save
Yet, with cardboard
Can rearrange
Like a magic wand was waved
Transform like magic
On their little stage
A tiny house
From which to play
To display
Homely items gay
A squidgy at hand
For dirty cars
Now Fords are the stars
They must be cleaned
Must glean
Front windows must sheen
Now the team
Rarely right
And rarer preen
Head off to route 16
Like Pokémon they perform
The curtains hardly drawn
On this so-called scam
On hallow land
Where man and van
Appear to beg
More to be panned
Stop at lights without a care
Suddenly without warning
They are there
Sir, if you dare
Chump change is the fare
A cigarette can you spare
Among the rich
For many a chumps change
A game
Do you think I’m insane?
Is a saying
Pulls in the dollars
When they’re not paying
And they better be
Implores
The bold and the bashful
And the sore
Muscles gnaw
It’s turkey time
For the moon boys*
On the streets of yore
Always yore
When I was a king back then
I owned the streets I now freely roam**
And then to home
Cars now awash
And all’s a fix
