Sunday, April 3, 2016

March 31, 2016

Two men in the distance are sitting on a park bench, Kelvingrove, Glasgow
The two are dressed in a sort of fisherman-thrash attire
One younger and in scraggs of black, neat around the edges, refined rebellion
which claims, he rocked the cradle but now the baby sleeps

The other man, old and weathered from slated rain and liver pangs
is sitting in a 'rightfully so' position, wearing a matured sandy brown and pea green
plaid hunting fleece and a brown lambs wool ear flap hat
he nudges his mate, as the girl draws nearer from the distance
and he locks her down with his timeless busted confidant gaze

old slated man stands up in the midst of an isolated beam of sunshine
flogging her attention with his severe charisma

she takes her headphones off, offering her attention
unknowing if there will be a heckle or an enticement

his bottom jaw hangs heavy, his gold grill glistens
and he sings

"with your long blonde hair
and your eyes of blue
the only thing I ever got from you
was sorrow

"Aye, David Bowie it is! That's David Bowie!" he banters with pride

she looks at him with a talcum smile
grabs his historic plaid arm
stares him dead in the eye
and says,

"Thank you...Thank you for that"

he stands quiet for a split second and smiles
then sits down and continues to roll a fag with his pal

and she walks on

with reassuring tones of unwashed tales and a melody in mind


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