WHIMSICAL PIMP, Poetry by Maria Lopez

Genre: Life


When i see him in the morning

Reminds me of an old song,
Sinatra and gipsy kings
And motown
And rock n’ roll.

Strange mixture of a man
I could call him retro freak,
With his broad wing hat
And red shoes,
Off he goes with his rythm stick.

You should see him
Through my eyes…

My neighbourhood is soo boring,
So bloody traditional,
so mass sunday mornings,
So gossip and hypocritical,
So old ladies with their trolleys
And their god blessed doggies.

That im so grateful for his colours,
His raven black hair,
At 70 something
His tight jeans, his big head.

Every morning
As I pass by,
He will sing me a tune
Mixture of flamenco and jazz.
… and he doesnt know it
But he paints me a smile.
For when i am old
As old as this woman will be,
I want to be outrageous

Just like the whimsical pimp.


    * * * * *

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This entry was posted in 2016 poetry, Life, new poetry, poet, poetry, Poetry Festival, Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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