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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