In flip flops and jeans he calls up the
pathos of a rainy Sunday afternoon,
cars passing, the river muttering.
He is thin as a scarecrow and missing teeth.
At his feet, a complicated score
that lies, staring up at the sky.
In flip flops and jeans he calls up the
pathos of a rainy Sunday afternoon,
cars passing, the river muttering.
He is thin as a scarecrow and missing teeth.
At his feet, a complicated score
that lies, staring up at the sky.