Johnny L.

johnny l.
lives three doors
down
across from norman
the child molester
he’s an old
black man
so cool
shades are
like ketchup
on
filet mignon
others his age
would step
creep
hunched over
humpbacked
johnny l.
glides
just a
feather’s breath
above the ground
in the spring
soon as the
trees
get green
he moves out to the
benches on the
circle
suns himself
like a reptile
and talks low to the
ladies
he’s a poet of a
different
flavor
he would be a
verse or poem
otherwise
his words couldn’t
be captured by
wax filled ears
but apprehended
in that gestalt
moment
of just being
him
he’d say that’s just
“so much bullshit,
big man.
apprehend this”
and he’d cup his
balls and
laugh
who can deny his
art

J. Masuda © 2004
art
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