Hobo Poems - Poems about Hobo

You use sex to live as a means to pay Attention not to mention evade escape Any responsibility in bills mortgage or rent Pretending to love like you are heaven sent You’re good at what you do making lovers a fool Only thing you own between your legs a tool Like butter your words melt like moth to flame You...

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The sky turned dark The poet built a fire & warmed his hands Worms crawled thru His skin& angels Cried & moments Slipped pass like Lavendar melting The Santa Fe Chief & coyote serenaded The wanderer Remembering Your hot breath Cascading like Moonlight on His back ...

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fragrant vagrant...

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The freight train puffs a veil of smoke into the night. The iron rails rumble. Be still. Now. There it is, the engine's call, fading To the distance. Between shadows, a lean figure grips tight to the rolling steel, His pack worn low on his back, and now he's gone Wholly, into the night. I stand alone by the coal yard, I do not...

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I once had a buddy named Bob He was an unbearable slob I pressed him a suit And dressed him up cute He dirtied it quickly, the knob....

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hobo perambulates through the concrete jungle. he prowls the city streets by day, pushing...

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In an unfolding poetic hymn of yours, I will be the poet, with zealous zeal, A Sky, unwrapped the horizon of yours, while, I was a lonely, soaring seagull Running brook of yours had a murmuring sound, though, tranquil water touched mine Within the rainy season,and your riverine landscape, I will be the estuary, rushing to a...

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A hobo ought to know the sound of a train from that of acid rain Cos' if he don't know he'll be good as dead by the time ~ the last whistle blows...

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Step right up Come down below Welcome To the side show See rodeo clowns Spiral down Tendrils Twine around Hobo Give us thrills Break our hearts Star attraction there’s No sadder show revealed Sure To tear you apart...

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Mangrove Jack He might attack Always lurking Never twerking Twigs in his hair His smell everywhere Dirt under his nails His creepiness prevails Mangrove Jack He will be back…...

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She is a hobo, they said, shrinking back in horror. Maybe it’s my mismatched clothes, my moldy socks. The fact that I no longer bathe or brush my teeth. I am delighted by their eagerness to flee This is what I had always wanted But never had. No one ran toward me to tell their life story No one rushed over to...

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Why do you want me To shoulder your bags? That are made of filthy rags Yet this seems to make You quite glad Can’t transport your own stuff Enough is enough You are a vagrant incarcerate But the only thing you can Say is “I’m so sorry” For what congesting decades Of my life, even you realize Nothing about...

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I am hitchhiking rides to Britt, Iowa this week, and I’m not green. Fully intend to be named the glorified, brand new 2021 Hobo Queen. Wish people marked cars like they put hobo symbols on a fence post. I do not wish to get in with an axe murderer, a most horrible host. Used to jump in box cars...

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HOBO CHRISTMAS PAST (Hannibal, Ill., 1960) Old toothless queen with rheumy eyes, I'm seeing you again, across a smoky fire– near an underpass, hillside grey with weather. You hold forth over a can of hot soup, stopping to guzzle wine, mutter in your whiskers, something about peace and love – a wink at the...

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Hobo Butterfly Rest here Weary Monarch Though Monterey calls you No flight for broken wings that seek Healing Born in this arbor - this hospice - Begging release to fly The wind express Again! 4/28/20 Based on an injured butterfly, in our garden, that hitched a ride on the grill of our car. We think he finally made it to Monterey and we have...

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