M-E-O-W, be written in big
paint spray letters ona powa
box by da streetlite et Ryland
n Broad, all lowa case ta
make it soun sinshal, tikle ya
eayahs, dis be where da cats
come call, long legs n all, on
cross da street ona corner block,
Tennessee be openin his malt shop,
puttin o'da 40 ounce stock, bottles
clink sweet golden music ta thirsty
throat hethens, a lil brown bag deliva-
runss, say da Milwaukee revrunds
castin dice fo leftova's o'da state check
Tennessee d'o he gots a laff'l shake
thunder, wit punch lines strike
lightnin, he be tellin us one bout a
preacha n'a waterhose, all da boys stan
roun close n'a ress out rollin bones'r
whistlin fo some of that catscratch n'
Jimmy, he walk right inta a bullet
out a drive'n by car come jumpin
nevah saw comin'
Damn, his life b'come a few sentences
ona five-0 papah but nah ev'n
b'low da fold ina ev'nin news,
ana dark spot tween'a cracks uva sidewalk,
we step ova'n whispah'n prayahs ta
eva friday nite, when'a cats prowl
n malts clink sweet music hymns
ina toast ta da boy who nevah
had a chance, jis as inocent a
mouse asa ressuv us
welcome ta Richmond.
It is One Shot Wednesday, for those that write poetry and others that know no better. Go write something poetic, come join us. I promise to lock the cat up for the night. It all starts at 5 pm EST, tonight.
I wrote this on our recent trip to Richmond for my son's audition for a part in Steven Spielberg's new movie Lincoln. For those that were following his journey, he made it through to final cuts or final six and they filmed him doing a scene. We got a letter and he did not get selected but they were very impressed and encouraged him to try for several upcoming roles in the future.