Shot of Wry
FIGHT THE VOICES Today I watched a mantry to swat the flies in his head—those voices too small to separateYet too large to ignore. The staticbetween radio stations, the pop of bacon grease in the pan. He spun and hollered, cursedand cajoled—a drunken maestroswarmed by unruly notes. I didn’t know himbut I recognized him.

FIGHT THE VOICES

Today I watched a man
try to swat the flies in his head—
those voices too small to separate

Yet too large to ignore. The static
between radio stations, the pop 
of bacon grease in the pan. 

He spun and hollered, cursed
and cajoled—a drunken maestro
swarmed by unruly notes. 

I didn’t know him
but I recognized him.

Posted 5 months ago
27 notes
Tagged: Philadelphia, Philly, street, candid, bw, poetry, pom, homelessness, mental illness, .
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