Busking Ave

Across the street from the homeless 
guy begging for change, there’s a 
guitarist whose fingers are puppet 
master enough to turn a passerby 
into a marionette. Its like he’s using 
their spine as steel-string the way they 
boardwalk over to his hardshell guitar case 
and throw money in it, as if were a 
million dollar investment.

Right down the street from him there’s 
a woman with a voice that sounds like 
she doused it in the blood of a sinking 
slave-ship. Every time she hits a high-note 
you can feel the whips being welted on 
your back. The onlookers always leave 
with teary eyes and pocket lint.

Around the corner from her a man with 
a bible pledged across his chest preaches 
of the rapture and repentance. 
Most people avoid eye contact or are still 
dumbfounded from the guitarist and singer. 
He knows this, but also understands each 
of their duties represent an essential stage in life.

So at the end of the night, they all pack up 
and head for the train station together.