The Last Great Man of Baltimore

an abstract of my old man

 

He ties his shoes with precision.
If anything could ever be said
about him, that could.
He keeps a small promise to every
woman he meets that he'll never
assume love, or trust.
Instead, he fills that time with
the babbling empty words of
philosophers and paper stock.
Jewish fear and Irish Luck.

With every sentence he gets
a little further from what he
wants to be. A bit more
comical, a lonely clown or
(more appropriately)
the Artful Dodger.
Not picking pockets but
playing the uninterested
lover, the dime store listener.

With every thought of her
he knows his heart
will someday stop.

Reviews

[Brjden (Bridge-Den) Cre..]

I love you piece here! Very creative and I can tell you're not new to writing!
Dope!