a junk man whirligig all packaged
in black carpetbagger moveable type
suitcase from Mardi Gras to coup de tat
fat Tuesday colored beads crucified neck
his flower power hair tête-à-tête
the lady standing reading Bukowski
knew his archetype a legend a mystery
tarnished silver gargoyles enlarged ring finger
boneskullery signs of the cross continue to linger
dyed purple tattoos inked like graffiti
written across the train scratchiti
sounds like a truck stop in Memphis
or Huntsville Alabama a pimp a prostitute
a preacher man all I remember tucked in
the top a copy of the poetry anthology lopsided
backpack objects he collected from his travels
this memoirist unravels he gathers his gear
as he began to leave whether a mountain man
it appeared unclear but in this urban environment
there are valleys and peaks dog sniffing thieves
cons liar sifting prowler predators duke earls
gangsters racketeers in his world he
anthologized what he saw did not need
a word just moonshine maybe a guffaw
privy to see this story standing in the
trains observatory