there are men unlike me who refuse to wear pants
in nyc boston in dc
they wear fish nets
banana hammocks
new suited with old cow shoes
hair abused
they walk into banks with dirty dogs and dirty feet
they wait
wait wait
for a blinking hand
the patent bleeeep
there are others
who guitar while walking
sing while talking
bring sunshine like carrier pigeons
the slight asian men
who make me feel tall on the train
though i reach no handles
no afghan foreheads
no business lips
i barely compare to african hips
one stands still
the unlit cigarette
telephone pole
he lights up like a taxi standwhen he takes my hand
his big beat body rests couchy
eyes like celery stalks
a mouth like tire blocks
he’ll stop you in your tracks
he doesn’t even compare to the men who refuse to ride the train at all
or the men who trace charlie chaplin
in the air
yellow stained fingers
cutting coupons tucking them in wallet pouches
saving
men who feed turtles pellets like pennies
or take money in cups
waiting for something to save them
to say ahhh haaaa
men who walk by windows of women in leopard skin
she’s riding a unicorn hard
pink boas and big breast
they think:shit man this is it
these are the men
with big rims little fins
whose horns honk more often then their heart beats
on streets i need a map or a man to find my way around
Originally published at https://www.tumblr.com.
