Brother Able
I met Brother Able last night while pumping gas.
He was talking poetry,
When he wasn't talking fast.
And he was watching peoples' faces.
He was watching them react
To...each...and...every...word...he...spoke.
Brother Able was a poet.
Said he was trying to get home.
I'm a WRITER, I can PROVE it,
And, with YOUR help, I could get HOME!
Said he lived in Baltimore
And even now, I'm not so sure he was telling me the truth.
But I let him read his poetry
To me.
And I listened to him anyway.
Hey, if nothing else was true
I knew
he wrote that poetry.
He spoke.
Not just words
From mind to mouth.
But feeling.
He got it from his gut.
It was as if he had gagged on a hunk of his life
and shared the acid aftertaste with me in conversational tones.
You could almost smell his love in the air.
It gave me goosebumps
The way this man stripped himself bare
right there, in front of me,
standing next to a gas pump in the middle of town
where everyone could hear.
And all he wanted was my spare change.
I met Brother Able again tonight
But he was a little younger this time
And he said he was trying to get home
To Philly.
So I asked him if he ever wrote a poem.
He said he had not.
I reached into my pocket
Two bucks.
It's all I got.
But I'll give you half if you just make me a promise.
He said, "What?"
Promise me you'll write a poem.
He said, "Thanks."
With sincerity
Then he shook my hand.
And he walked away.
He was talking poetry,
When he wasn't talking fast.
And he was watching peoples' faces.
He was watching them react
To...each...and...every...word...he...spoke.
Brother Able was a poet.
Said he was trying to get home.
I'm a WRITER, I can PROVE it,
And, with YOUR help, I could get HOME!
Said he lived in Baltimore
And even now, I'm not so sure he was telling me the truth.
But I let him read his poetry
To me.
And I listened to him anyway.
Hey, if nothing else was true
I knew
he wrote that poetry.
He spoke.
Not just words
From mind to mouth.
But feeling.
He got it from his gut.
It was as if he had gagged on a hunk of his life
and shared the acid aftertaste with me in conversational tones.
You could almost smell his love in the air.
It gave me goosebumps
The way this man stripped himself bare
right there, in front of me,
standing next to a gas pump in the middle of town
where everyone could hear.
And all he wanted was my spare change.
I met Brother Able again tonight
But he was a little younger this time
And he said he was trying to get home
To Philly.
So I asked him if he ever wrote a poem.
He said he had not.
I reached into my pocket
Two bucks.
It's all I got.
But I'll give you half if you just make me a promise.
He said, "What?"
Promise me you'll write a poem.
He said, "Thanks."
With sincerity
Then he shook my hand.
And he walked away.