patamystic poems and writing

Waiting to be Paid

W

for Robert Earl with love

In the beginning was the word
and the word was Rob’t Earl,
a live wire from the streets,
a direct hit to the heart.

Word be,
he be cool, be cool,
he be hot.

A warrior of the human kind,
he declares his ‘legiance
with a scarf of calico colors
on a Monkish head.

He be cool, be cool.
Word,
he be hot.

The vamp of Hunter St.
is an elegy
spilled in cursive neon blood
on the sidewalks of our minds.

He be cool, be cool,
he be scat,
he be one cool cat.

Those who read him
are sure to note
the blackest of cats
is a panther,
sleek, savage, satin and ready,
looking for prey
but not really wanting an answer.

He be cool, be cool,
he be hot, be hot,
he be gee be,
he be bop.

patamystic poems and writing
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