Tony Vaughan

                        By Kathi Georges

 

Tony is a knickerbocker roustabout

With spare change for a paycheck

And a word-song for any occasion.

Give him a quarter for a phone call

He'll give you a nickel change

And no one does that anymore

Except Tony. 

Tony lives on a flaming couch

And invites his friends over for herbal cigarettes

And mystical conversation

About places that you'll never see,

People you'll never meet,

Except through the far-sighted eyes of Tony.

And you wonder if it isn't

Better that way. 

Tony offers strangers a place to sleep

And lulls them into z-land

with a kalimba lullaby spoken soft and low.

Words in Tony's mouth explode quietly.

You listen close, as though each syllable

May be his last, and the last may be

Most important of all. 

Tony slips around the back streets

And spots the unseen scene

Through wizened, widened eyes

That will not blink.

He slips around the back streets

And when you talk to him next

He'll let you know

Everything that happened

While with him, you walked,

Asleep


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