Squeaky Clean

Yesterday
At the corner
Of Marsh and Broad
Crossing on the red light

I passed
Charles Manson
Holding an umbrella
And a tall
Starbucks latte

He stared me down
As we met
In the middle

Eyes as piercing
As the ones in the
Photos
Taken from
Helter Skelter

Beard as wild
Hair as
Disarrayed

Every bit as disheveled

I met his gaze
But only for a moment
The man is dangerous
After all

Then continued on
Wondering how
He’d secured
Release

From terminal life
In Corcoran

Wondering
What had brought him
Here

Of all places
Here

Wondering if there’re
Starbuck’s in prisons

Wondering, wondering, wondering…

Then almost collided
With a red-headed woman
Who darted past me
To catch up with him

As I turned back around
I heard her speak
As she took his hand

And remembered

Squeaky just got out
On parole

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2 Responses to “Squeaky Clean”

  1. DAMN!!!!!!! This is a very tight, carefully crafted poem.

  2. cool praise, lady.

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