On the train to work today,
I met President Lincoln’s Harmonica Player.
She was old and dirty with grime covering her face,
And her skills had faded with time,
But she swore she played Amazing Grace at his funeral.
“I’ll never turn down a dollar,
But my account is full,” she said as passengers boarded.
“It was my music that freed the [...]
Posted on December 29th, 2008 by drevon03
Filed under: Poetry | No Comments »
Henrietta, you caught my eye today.
It’s been awhile but you look good.
I see you got a new shirt to tie your hair back.
I hear there is snow tonight and the wind is rough.
Tear the plastic and put something on.
That coat you have for a pillow looks warm.
*****
Henrietta!
Stop it!
Stop reminding me!
Henrietta.
You are too young for this.
What [...]
Posted on October 28th, 2008 by drevon03
Filed under: Poetry | No Comments »
I work in televised mediums-
televised motion–
And I smell of man.
I stand before Presidents–
you keep watching-
As homemade steam moves your feet.
Posted on October 3rd, 2008 by drevon03
Filed under: Poetry | No Comments »