The Way It Goes
A warm winter day in San Francisco
Two Italian grandmothers –
Sidewalks so narrow
The cops have to make way
For the poets.
The sun beating down so hard
In front of Puccini’s
The beggars have to wear
An extra pair of shades
To see the quarter
You don’t give them.
Two ladies trying on slippers at the restaurant
Talk about the truffle store
And the elegant gentleman for Miami
To the pizza shop.
You walk with your John
Hoping for a midnight
Against the star-spangled irritation
Of ‘what are you going to do tomorrow?’
Me, I’m still trying to spell
Miranda while the beat cop
Slides down into his hip-Who me? wraps
For a last turn
Over to Grant.
Can I tell you the moral of this story,
With toothpicks in my lips, candy bars
Slipping from my vest,
A dream in the window
Waiting for the hopscotch leaders
To take in their flag?
Try to get a cup
For the bocce game tomorrow,
Remember you’re a teenager only once, and
Watch for the prince as he turns the corner
Of the century whistling up the night.
Peter you are at your best when you describe the poet's beat.
"Down On The Corner
out in the street.
Willy and the poor boys are playin'
bring a nickel
tap your feet."