Smell Filthy

Saw Sondheim’s ‘Fruit Juice of the Soul’
actor’s encore dip, tips, left and right and out to women like this, to men like that, the crimes of The Broadway Ripper
odd height couples in their Manhattan towers, I stored myself for a while, then star backed, from walking a three-week cold saunter
‘Where did he walk from?’
That was him, from LA, now fed-up in Western rent, getting sun’s burn, red and white fingers on newspapers, safety deposit dreams and driver’s value on eight track roads
falling crosses, non-Huguenot police chiefs, eyeing in underground time
smell filthy New York gangland death stare


*(Copyright is mine. Please contact me if you want to use or perform any of my poems.)

Beat Poempoempoetry

Black Boy Jerome ►

Comments

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LEON STOLGARD

Mon 31st Jul 2017 09:36

Harold Robbins.Novelist.
Check out his book 'Tycoon'
(New York world of gangsterism)
my thought connection to "New York deathstare" and so on

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Paul Welsh

Sun 30th Jul 2017 10:40

Thanks for the kind enthusiastic comment, much appreciated, who is the 'Robbins' you refer to ?
I pretty much write in the moment, I've tried in past to write in a more traditional narrative style, but it never really hits the spot, not really 'me', and find myself back to this kind of thing, constantly chopping words off and up to feel something.

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LEON STOLGARD

Sat 29th Jul 2017 20:01

clever hints of clever Robbins.Cannot believe the lack of well deserved comments.

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