Street Poetry

Today I encountered a street poet, a bald and bearded young man who said he could write a poem on any topic in 10 minutes.  Pay what you think the poem is worth.  A vintage typewriter loaded with carbon paper sat at the ready.  Butterflies for me, a birthday poem for my brother.  Tap, tap, tap of the typewriter keys could be heard on the next block as we occupied our 20 minutes with window shopping.  Poems written on the back of an advertisement and with typewriter ribbon so worn the poems could only be read in good light, or tactilely from the imprint of the letters.

Monarch Butterflys

There is some percentage of the human heart
that cannot help
but be inspired

by any magestic winged creature taking flight
how correct
this desire feels

to let some interior self unfurl
breaking dormancy
to claim some

small slice of the previously unattainable
sky as a new
place of home.

~ Kevin Devaney 9 19 14