[NYCSPITZ]

--


his cynical stare was psychotic from all the marbles he'd lost
though penetrating - sitting chilled under the firmament's frost
hidden inside him was a package of astounding beliefs
outside that Brooklyn halfway home in two thousand and three...
I sat and talked, though the stench on what he was wearing was ripe
it was his ode to 70's punk to wear his hair in a spike
salt and pepper beard grizzled, but kept it neat as could be
a crack whore would trim it for him called Lisa-Marie
he gazed at me without blinking, giving a turbulent smile
and pinched his chest; "this is the best suit I've worn in awhile"
I was mesmerized by the man's world, so sordid and stark
when one day he transformed, started performing his art
it was as if a brief light finally tried to escape
and this single moment inexorably was tied to his fate -
Chilly Autumn...when the light dies flirting with night's vows
he saw me coming home from work, when he curtsied and cried out:
"Young man! Allow me to state my purpose, it's considerably bold...
it's only right you're the man to whom this soliloquy's owed!
I came from the isle 'cross the sea which conquered, refined
were our mannerisms! None could flee its dominant bind
from India to Africa down to the southernest seas
the Sun never set upon us and our mother the queen!
a life given to empire was the commonest praise
and fueled even I, Jack Pickens the wandering knave
but all good things end - it's simply a sensational fact
born too late! I Curse the damned generational gap
so New York became my home in life's furious stream
it crushed my soul, wallet and more - my shakespearean dreams"
with that he seemed to seize up and light fled from his eyes
faster than anyone with the quickest wit or ken could surmise
he sank back into a stupor dazed, broken and stumped
a lucid moment championing all the homeless and drunk



.