Poem -

Baltimore Tales

Baltimore Tales

Baltimore Tales

by Gabriel Magno

lazy fat cat meowing, begging for a meal,

mother baking cookies, grates an orange peel.

husband’s belly flopping, cold beer in his hand,

watching Jimmy Kimmel, singing with the band.

little Susie playing, with her pregnant worn out doll,

dumb dog outside barking, as the oak tree’s acorns fall.

UPS delivers, a Halloween costume,

little Leroy grabs it, runs up to his room.

soon appears as Batman, mommy says "how cute",

but sister and the father, don’t really give a hoot.

outside the neighbor hollers, "better come and see",

as it runs and yelps in circles, the dog stung by a bee.

across the street the yard sale, has now gone in full swing,

they’re selling all the junk they bought, imported from Beijing.

The bus stop now is crowded, with people on their way,

to watch the rodeo in the field, the ground is strewn with hay.

the lanky tall hairdresser, prepares her chair and waits,

for those who need a different look, before they meet their mates.

the alleys now are quiet, as the day comes to an end,

the runaways have all gone home, there’s nothing left to spend.

the doormen watch the rich arrive, in rented black tuxedos,

gay convention here tonight, they’re prancing in their speedos.

I’m certain there is more to see, but I must take the train,

to somewhere far away from here, and rearrange my brain.

and try and understand these tales, that somehow seem so strange,

that people here in Baltimore, have managed to exchange.

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Comments

author
Tony Taylor

Hey Gabriel!!.......just got on here.........so cool that I ran into this first.........you have this "Streetcar Named Desire" way of conveying information......you're like the Ralph Ellison of poetry.........you have a gift my friend......develop this "style" you have.....and I guarantee you'll be successful......monetarily as well as spiritually...........love and rockets brother!!...........later...........T xx

Reply
author
Gabriel Magno

Thanks Tony

Going in for surgery first thing in the morning, but like McArthur said, "I shall return".

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