Suits and Blossom

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
This is a poem that tells the story of a man who is dissatisfied with being a businessman/'Mr. Ordinary' etc, and envies the people of Greenwich Village. Enjoy :)

Submitted: June 15, 2010

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Submitted: June 15, 2010

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Suits and Blossom
 
Soft, white blossom fell in the quiet avenues
Over my lonely amphetamine pilgrimage,
Past revolutionary bars which were tinted blue,
Under the towering bricks of Greenwich Village.
 
Outside a colourful cocktail place, guitars
Twanged across the bohemian-night patios,
Instead, I had a suit and a stiff neck collar,
And looked on jealously in the alley shadows.
 
One concrete curb had matted gray cat hairs
Strewn along it... split and tired. I cawed loudly,
‘Oh fuck! Are these my grey hairs everywhere?!’
While biting at my neat shirt sleeve rabidly...
 
I soon found a makeshift, scorching tramps fire.
Forcing the suit onto it, I laughed like a beast,
Then I ran back, naked, to the vibrant attire,
Vibrant minds, of the bar on Eighth Street East.


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