OLD MAN ON THE CORNER

OLD MAN ON THE CORNER 

Old man on the corner,

Cup in one hand, Bible in the other.

He says he's a Jesus man

And asks you through cracked, crooked teeth

If you are one, too.

And if you are he sells you a pencil

And if you aren't he sells you a Bible

Or a pamphlet that tells you

You are going to hell next Tuesday.

In his coat he's got a hundred precious goodies-

Watches, necklaces, gold and emerald rings

In his socks he's got stashed away

Your choice of cigars and cigarettes.

If you're a man he'll tell you how smart and shrewd you look

And if you're a woman,

He will shamelessly flirt

And inconspicuously try to look up your skirt,

While trying to sell you smelling salts or the secret to happiness.

Old man on the corner

Cup in one hand, Bible in the other.

He works the streets like a pro

And at the end of each day

Wanders beneath the last neon sign

And in a weary baritone sings the pigeons to sleep.

-Bruce Potts

Copyright 2024

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED