funky junky
dancin' for tips
neo-bojangles
on the corner
with an old soup can
neo-warhol ,
groovy meercat
a sick goatee
beats spackling buckets
homemade sticks
pedestrians grin
put green paper
in the tin cylinder
it's shakedown street
without the dead
hungry performers
don't like beggin'
sidewalk extravaganza
brightens up
the otherwise reality
Fly ( the sequel )
Fly ( the sequel )
If you do not change your direction
you may end up where you are heading
you may end up where you are heading
Re: Fly ( the sequel )
When I moved to Santa Cruz in 70' the down town main street was full of street musicians, and there were street poets too. Santa Cruz was the Hippie mecca in the seventies, and poet mecca. My friend that I moved in with was a musician, he could play all the instruments, I liked to jam with him with flute or sax.This poem reminds me of those early Santa Cruz days, when street musicians were filling the down town. There was an old guy that played a saw, now there is a statue of him near the clock tower right down town, unless they removed it.
Re: Fly ( the sequel )
good story cmoore....special times indeed
If you do not change your direction
you may end up where you are heading
you may end up where you are heading
Who is online
Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 41 guests