A King Beyond The Streets

A long winter wool coat draped down to the flo. Tommy broom sticks concealed within ready to blow. You have made a noise loud enough to make the whole city know. Never step in the way of him in black coat.

Dazed… 

Staring at what you left under the rug. Fast cars like stage coaches. Chased while galloping through the hood. A man with absolutely nothing to lose and no cards to fold. Behind the steering wheel of a pitch fork. All bathed in dripping gold.

This is the only man who can turn a bad Avenue or Blvd block into a quiet safe zone. Without swinging nickel plated frustrated enders of life’s splinters. That needs taking out as quick as word of mouth.

Moving around like drug currency from the south to the north. To the north to the south. The bait car moving up from the south to the north and back to the south for more. The man was made of pure organization and trained thought by core.

He is the only man left in the city with pure heart and never bending a knee to any.

He is a hybrid of anarchy with in hybernation that can wake when tried of patience.

He is just a man…

A human…