He asks me perhaps Could I spare some loose change I don't have any I offer a joint instead I light it for him Fearing the theft of my lighter He tells me the story Of the cities decline The steam rising From the sewer behind him Framing his story The riots and fires The glory long past As he flicks his ash On my shoe His salt and pepper stubble Patching his chin He claims he's the mayor Of Hart Plaza When we're done with the smoke He wishes god bless
The Cat Caller
Walking the corner By the renaissance center A security guard Sways to keep warm "**** Baby" he yells In my general direction I don't turn around "Hey come here for a minute" I start to walk faster "Well ******* then"
I continue to walk Past a building unknown A body laid upon a stoop Curled in a ball Face an inhuman blue A paper thin blanket His only defense From the harsh Detroit winter To this day I have no idea If he was alive Or dead
True stories I've experienced in my crazy hometown of Detroit.