Sunday, June 17, 2007

Marcus Greene

The other night, my special, lady-friend* and I were at a coffee shop enjoying a couple of smoothies, mine with mango and strawberry flavors blended together**, when I was approached by a middle-aged, Black man who asked if I liked poetry. Now, I suppose I could have said, "No. I don't really care for poetry, unless you know some dirty limericks.***" That would have been the best answer, but I was caught off-guard and I had a touch of a head freeze, so I said, "You bet. Big poetry fan here." He then asked if I'd like to hear a poem, so I said, sure, so long as it was a quick one. He then read us FOUR poems, which was more then I asked for, but he did read them fast, and I mean fast, like the guy from the Micromachines (TM) commercials.

When he was done, he asked if we'd like to buy a packet of hand-written, photocopied, versions of the poems we had just heard, complete with piss-pour illustrations, and his name signed and printed at the bottom of each one, all for the low, low price of $10 a piece. Part of his sales pitch was to tell us that he is a Vietnam veteran, he is fifty-eight years old, and he proceeded to lift up his shirt and show us a scar on his stomach. I produced a dollar from my wallet, and I said I'd just give him a buck for his time. He counter-offered with five bucks for the two packets we were reading along with, and I said fine. Then he asked if he could have the other dollar I took out too. I thought that last request was a bit shameless, but I was happy to give it to him, because he gave us something to talk about for the next half-hour, and here I am blogging about him.

Now, without further ado, I give you mine and Marcus' favorite poem from the aforementioned packet. At first glance it looks really simplistic, but when I read it, I can't help but recall the exact cadence and the level of sincerity with which he read it. His performance convinced me that Mr. Greene was really in love at some point in his fifty-eight years on this earth, and that make happy, and a little reluctant to throw out the packet when I'm done with this blog.

Love, By Marcus Greene

Love, as the flower grows
The little butterfly knows
My heart throbs, and as for
You my love also grows


* For the reacord, Dr. Ken's progressions goes:
This Chick I"m Seeing
Lady-Friend
Special Lady-Friend
Girlfriend

** I know, what a goofy drink, but it was refreshing on a hot night, it was too late for coffee, and my options were limited due to my lactose intolerance.

*** My favorite dirty limerick starts with
There once was a man from Nantucket
Whose dick was so long he could suck it.

19 comments:

phishez said...

Bargain. A few bucks for some conversation starters and a blog post. I know I've paid more in the past.

classyandfancy said...

I like how he rhymed grows with grows. Pure poetry genius.

The [Cherry] Ride said...

Couple things: man, you really are a gay man trapped in a straight man's body, aren't you -- decanters? mango and strawberry smoothies??

That poem was dirty.

Dr. Kenneth Noisewater said...

Phish: Well worth it.

Classy: Actually, he kind of rhymed grows with knows. Twice.

Chud: Thanks for picking up the spare on the limerick. Hahahhaha! Now go post, you no posting muthafucka!

Cherry: I think my love for dancing to Erasure songs seals the deal.

Zen Wizard said...

I think you should both be writing lyrics for Greg Brady, if you want to know the truth about it.

But I mean that in a good way--

ReckenRoll said...

If you want to feel really good about the price, it was only £3 OR it was about the same price they wanted to charge me for a grande latte in NYC.

Big time bargain.

Jenny! said...

I like your poem better...and drunken chud's add on was fantastic! If he would have approached me I would have covered my ears and started rocking back and forth!

Mighty Dyckerson said...

Marcus could get a job at Hallmark...

...running the copy machine.

K.I.D. said...

Vietnam Vets do tend to write beautiful poetry.

carolyn says said...

It's all that agent orange, it makes you right poetic

ADW said...

I loved the finish to your poem. As for the other, I would have started making machine gun noises and yelling "Charlie, CHarlie" to see how he would react. THAT would have been worth the six bucks.

Dr. Kenneth Noisewater said...

Zen: "Clowns never laughed before, and bean stalks never grew . . . "

Reck: He was a brotha, so he was more like a grande mocha.

Jenny: Chud and I should not be given credit for that one, as it's an old-time favorite.

Mighty: THAT is why you're the best commenter in the business.

k.i.d.: Yeah, usually there's more writing about a guy making a necklace out of people's ears.

Carolyn: That agent orange stimulates the brain, much like mustard gas did in the old days.

adw: I don't think he would have found that funny. If I pulled that on him, I think I would have left the coffee shop with the same scar as his.

Girl in a Guy's World said...

The last time someone approached me and asked me for money, I flipped out and called him a communist. I guess we all handle these things differently.

Anonymous said...

congratulations on admitting you have a girlfriend Dr Ken.

now I have some corny shot from a movie in my head where he walks around the corner and smiles and his teeth have that stupid gleamy fairy dust on them you just know symbolises that he's not a homeless bum after all...he's actually an ANGEL who's mission it was to make you admit you had a frikkin girlfriend.

Bums rock.

Zen Wizard said...

I know--those lyrics never made much sense.

Sometimes clowns not laughing is a good thing--I mean, when they are starring in Pagliacci for instance.

I have also found that if a group of clowns aren't laughing, they are probably not conspiring to gang rape you.

If I was shagging a girl clown, I think that would be traumatic enough. If she started laughing, I might need to add three therapy sessions onto the post-traumatic stress therapy.

chuckdaddy2000 said...

You have a really good take on it. Whenever I'm in those situations, it's like I pay to get out of it and then get mad at myself later.

But for a poem and blog... Well worth it.

Anonymous said...

Just so you are aware: I've known Marcus Greene for some time now, and he did indeed serve two tours of duty in Vietnam ('68-'70) as a Marine in the I corps. He lost a significant portion of his entrails to shrapnel.

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Dr. Kenneth Noisewater said...

Anon: Wow. Thanks for coming by and pointing that out. He seems like a good man. I'll take out the part about being unsure about the tour of duty in Vietnam. Hope you and Marcus are both doing well.