Edmund Siejka Poet Narrative

King of the Fire Hydrant

By day he pretends
To be a janitor
Spending his time
Sitting on the corner hydrant
Enjoying nature's comforts
Fresh air
And the Sun
Watching and
Seeing everything.

The locals come to him for advice 
Or to converse
In the privacy of the 
Cement square 
Allocated to a corner.
If a stranger asks questions
He shakes his head
Signifying he knows nothing
Just sitting there 
A Gypsy
Feeling life's rhythm 
Pass like a gentle upward breeze
As mothers and children
Rush by
Old men walk slowly
Women carry groceries
Delivery men stop 
And nod his way.

Newspaper folded under
An iron throne
His face curls up in an evil yawn
When the street entertainment bores him
Other times he carefully peels a fruit and eats it slowly
Enjoying all its juices
Secretly relishing his role
As a troubadour
In an indifferent city.

He knows the comings and goings 
Of all the tenants
Mostly young and naïve
Paying outrageous rents
For closet size apartments
And he treats them 
According to his mood
For he is the King of the Fire Hydrant.

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Angelina Halfpenny November 14, 2015 at 5:14 PM Hi Edmund, I am an artist who has used fire hydrants as personified symbols in my work for several years. I am currently doing an art-inquiry based study that involves amplification of this symbol. I have been reaching out to other artists and poets to gain statements that deepen my experience and understanding of what this image means in my own personal mythology. I am really facinated by your poem and was hoping to gain more information from you on this topic. - Angelina Edmund Siejka November 17, 2015 at 9:23 AM Thanks Angelina. I work out of New York. If you have any questions let me know. Regards, Ed