The Man in the Groovy Shirt

A summer day like any other

The air is wet and life is smothered 

Sun beating down

The ground is hot

The man in the groovy shirt

Roams the parking lot


He smokes and spits

won’t ever quit

He stares into December

The passerby pause and ask

what is it he remembers


He wiggles his toes

Holds up some cash

His face begins to shrivel

He takes a swig and says something

And who’s to say it’s drivel


He says

2013 dollar bills

I’ve got here quite a few

And you’re left to sit and wonder

What that’s supposed to mean to you


Months later when the snowflakes fall

on a frigid afternoon

that same man in the groovy shirt

Is staring into June


His boots sit on the powder

fingers dancing in his hair

frozen breath and cigarette smoke

mingle in the air


He throws the butt onto the ground

cursing fools unaware 

Something’s wrong

our hero whispers

But there’s no one there

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