Barefoot simple dress
The Brasileira plays guitar
On front porch swing
Barefoot simple dress
The Brasileira plays guitar
On front porch swing
He was a flash in the pan
Never took a break
Mind turned to mush
Like a milkshake
Always full speed
Crunch
Crunch
Buzz saw
Cut down the trees
Now
Sits every day on his worn chair
Wondering
How did it all disappear?
Late night
Walking cobbled streets of Prague
Had one too many pilsners
Met a street performer
On the corner
Done for the night playing his violin
After an hour of shooting the breeze
I asked my new friend
Why is it that you are so at ease?
He replied:
“I play for spare change
I’m the only one who needs to be pleased
Some people call me lazy and completely crazy
But
Too much ambition would no longer be fun being a musician
I accept who I am
No need to try to be on top of the highest mountain”
Grabs everything she can
Does not need a permanent man
Prowls clubs along the beach
Fuck
Shower
Brush teeth
Walks out the door
While her lover sleeps
Next Weekend
Repeat
Fruity pipe smoke engulfed the room
Surrounded by shelves containing damp dusty LPs
The cynic
Whispered into my ear
“Old people change their mind like the wind”
Her hands dirty
All day
Working the fields
She is proud
Yet
Does not pretend to be superior
Brutally honest
Simplistic
Clear noncompetitive eyes
Smile super wide
No mask
Nothing to hide
The peacock
Always
Stood tall
Displaying
His colorful feathers
A player
With swagger
Machiavellian tendencies
Reckless
Leading to colossal failure
Causing
The proud bird
To plummet
Eternally
Into
The psychosomatic abyss
Left behind
Never before took to crime
Unemployed
The young man
Walked down the steps of the favela
Pulled out a sharp blade
Decision made
First time hardest
Life forever tarnished
Society pays price
Living in fear is the sacrifice
He is the potato guy
Save for winter
Always
Make sure
Table has dinner
Homeless
At young age
Low risk
Financially safe
Habits
Difficult to break
Man lost his temper
Hiding behind machismo
Actually fearful
Frantically
Scratching
At his deformed image
In the mirror
Hyperventilating
He cried
“Please help I need air”
Fallen idol
Emotional bowl of jello
Desecrated soul
Pissed in his own rice bowl
Alone
There are no more calls
No longer the star
Of the Masquerade balls
Fiddler crab
Moving back forth on beach sand
Never stays with plan
Has no control of wheel
Flip Floppers never close deal
Beautiful dark skin
Braided hair without a care
She’s from Jamaica