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With Apologies To Jack London
"Church St. people of the abyss."
A pancake breakfast in Jericho,
through the melt and the muck
we decided to go.
Wiping our boots at Church St. and Pearl,
We entered at risk as profanity hurled.
Through the hopeless, the helpless,
the homeless in plight,
flipped a quarter in the air
to a beggars delight.
Under Holiday lights
still up in Spring,
past guitars and people
who think they can sing.
With seagulls awhirl,
all the ground as their plate,
a pierced and tatted girl,
who feared she was late.
The sweet spice aroma
of venders with food,
and a different kind of smell,
from the Bus station dudes.
Arriving at Main street
and to our distain,
surrounded by drunks
as it started to rain.
Now standing in puddles
with thoughts where we`ve been,
be a while before we shop,
on Church St. again.
Copyright ©
Charlie Knowlton
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