Image by lumierefl via FlickrBy James Jarvis
04/09/01
Carl is a man
who's seen what happens
when you piss God off.
(Lamentations 3:1-16)
First hand.
Up close and personal.
He's about as popular in heaven
as a hair in a southern-fried biscuit.
Crazy as a soup sandwich.
Horny and mean and
quick with a straight razor;
in his mid-fifties I would guess,
'cause of his shiny shoes.
Old men always shine their shoes.
Carl loaned me one a his hounds tooth jackets
and a pair of green sharkskin pants
so I wouldn't embarrass him;
He'd have enough trouble keeping the young brothers off me
without the hindrance
of sartorial embarrassment.
I had stolen one a my roommate's fedoras
while he was takin' his nightly ninety minute shower,
tipped out the room
and it was on.
We was rollin' down Western
like two old G's from Compton,
South Central bar hopping,
pocos pero locos,
lookin' ta run some bitches,
some hookers
and some hoes.
Didn't matter which,
'slong as it was true split tail
and painted.
Two old G's from Compton;
one black, one white.
'Cept Carl's from Cheecaga
and I immigrated from Texas.
And instead of a Cadillac,
all we had ta ride was my roommate's Crapmobile;
an '84 primer gray Oldsmobile
with Oagum scratches up one side
and a tattered American flag droopin' off the radio antennae
on the other side.
(We parked 'round back
whenever we got somewhere.)
Tags: lamentations, poet, poetry, Jolie Blond, poem, spoken word, hair in a southern fried biscuit, crazy as a soup sandwich, quick with a straight razor, houndtooth jacket, sharkskin pants, sartorial, fedora, rolling down Western, old Gs from Compton, South Central homies, pocos pero locos, run some bitches, hookers, hoes, James Jarvis
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