Re: Robert's Poems (Part 2)
A Hairytale of New York.
I was a very hard up hippy, I used to have to make my joints from stale dried up bread crumbs, one day I was sitting smoking in a run down bar when I saw an old friend pass by, I left the crumby joint and went out to meet him. It was his first day in the big apple, my second, he was tall, I was small, I said hi, he said low, hello hello, you say goodbye and I say hello. We were like two idiots standing on the footpath looking for the sidewalk, the big apple was giving me the pips, suddenly a streetcar followed by a tram whizzed by and he was caught up in the gust and squashed beneath the wheels, what a mess, I went back to my stool in the bar and wept into my Bud, trying to make it last longer, every drop counts when it's 10 below outside. "Closing time Buster" growled the bartender as he lifted my glass and swished a filthy cloth under it, "Aint you got a home to go to?". Little did he know my home was a cardboard box on zero street, I was never very good remembering street numbers. "Aint yeh got no heart?" I asked through my tears, trying to sound like a native at the same time, "I just lost my best buddy, can't I just kip down in the corner over there" Whada ya think this is, skid row?" I didn't want to spoil his delusions of grandeur so I walked out into the freezing New York January weather.