Another poem, dear followers. This one from my trip to the East Coast in 2015. I had the privelage of visiting with a friend in New York City and actually observed a folk from that Classic Beegee’s song.
Jotting down those cool words with the span of his dry lips.
Nonsensical thought patterns to the ear.
Poetic derivatives to his mind–
As he strides like John Travolta reliving
His Saturday night fevers.
His water bottle sloshing in his left hand.