Email Poem

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Poem

the gulf circle is where 
brown pelicans dive for their 
dinner over the heads 
of the hungry masculine 
wood storks looking men
swarming in schools like shark 
 
preying on beautiful elderly women 
for they jewels life savings retirements 
pensions property and real estate
anything he deems of value 
wearing khakis by day tropical 
shirts baring parrots coconuts

both hands in their sunken empty 
pockets scouring dreams and life 
savings of grandmothers and somebody's 
aunts strolling along the antique shops 
thrift shops following artists writers 
thrive awaiting a time to dive his prey 

shoulders raised and back knees knocked 
feet flat turned outward over canvas 
looking penny loafers he smells of cheap 
hair tonic his eyes lock beneath dark 
sunglasses while the woman approaches 
big straw hat beach bag retired poet 

brilliant writer removing her own book 
she took years to write the pink flamingo 
sings a warning for all ladies sunbathing 
to watch out run for cover while his knees 
pop and stretch backwards he opens 
his long beak of a nose and grunts 

he raises the longest arms unusually thin 
smooth fingers as if he never lifted not one 
of them to work ever he snatches the old 
woman book spilling her pink grapefruit 
juice grabbing her change purse retrieving 
her coin collection finally the last coin falls 

a very rare Abraham Lincoln penny he picks 
it up the woman cries contadino contadino
he mumbles quickly removes one 
of his tattered and warn penny loafer 
places the rare coin inside his shoes
strolls along simply singing the blues

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