'The Vanguard' - a Poem

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Smoking

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Smoking, leaning, shook out
from the gambling shop

this shrinkage
patting down his pockets,

positive the three o'clock
at Epsom

is as good as El Dorado
or his dreams of horses.

One day
when the revolution's done,

when hope is not some shiny
squalid thing

for one-armed bandits,
I will know him.

Standing in the florist's door
distributing the wreaths

for V-Day. Just you wait;
I am a betting man,

I'm sure of it.

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lazarus-wist@lazarus-wist
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Viva la revolucion...
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'The Vanguard' - a Poem | Ecency