Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
I never knew his real name as a child in Newark But named him Uncle Funky the peanut man while he sold peanuts from a makeshift stand, now on this June 2013 morning My mind opens the door of youthful memory I can see soiled pants and shirt,an old battered hat covering gray uncut hair and brown hands waiting for a dollar for his peanuts Funk clung to his skin like fleas to a dog And just one whiff released would stagger a young boxer in his prime The times changed with the town sweeping Uncle Funky away with yesterday and the past like old news And I wonder and it isn't a very pleansant wonder Whatever became of Uncle Funky the peanut man?
0
Jul 14, 2014
Jul 14, 2014 at 9:34 AM UTC
UNCLE FUNKY BY VICTOR TRIPP
I never knew his real name as a child in Newark But named him Uncle Funky the peanut man while he sold peanuts from a makeshift stand, now on this June 2013 morning My mind opens the door of youthful memory I can see soiled pants and shirt,an old battered hat covering gray uncut hair and brown hands waiting for a dollar for his peanuts Funk clung to his skin like fleas to a dog And just one whiff released would stagger a young boxer in his prime The times changed with the town sweeping Uncle Funky away with yesterday and the past like old news And I wonder and it isn't a very pleansant wonder Whatever became of Uncle Funky the peanut man?
Written by
Jul 14, 2014
Jul 14, 2014 at 9:34 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem