His Angel
The women were all so
lovely
in their t-shirts and skirts;
the children chased pigeons
around the town square
with no shoes
and Johnny sat on the
corner and sang his blues
a jumbled mess of cigarettes and booze;
nothing was in question;
all the people thought they
were going to Heaven,
and Johnny sat on the
corner and sang his blues
a jumbled mess of cigarettes and booze.
Copyright © Chris Patton | Year Posted 2006
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment