The passersby become more and more intriguing
I follow the bum with eyes only.
the pretty boy with the black eye
and tattooed forearm
relinquishes a smoke to him,
refusing his quarter.
it's not uncommon these days, around here,
to find some semblance of compassion.
it flows on the sidewalks of Maryland Avenue.
drink your fiji water,
watch drunken fish fill up tonight
from the safety of another misspent evening at cartel.
this is where we gather to partake in the wifi
soak ourselves in a bathing of espresso,
sneak our sideways glances at the attractive businessmen in the corner,
the bums in thin, ratty clothing,
the sights and sounds of women in summer
skin gleaming with tan even in the night
my soft whisper of ink and pad
lets the deafening bustle of this place
reach my ears in stereo,
and i scratch the paper in fervor.
another st louie summer, myself and a sketchbook,
the assorted city life inspires my pen to dance
while the air conditioning struggles
to maintain a comfortable balance.