Wanna Be–World Famous?

sanfran-059.jpg

wait for a big crowd
sneak up on the Bushman–scare
the bejesus out
take his bucket and fill it
with cash from across the street

give him back the loot
with the crowd in place grab them
by the balls and read

your best poetry
like nero playing a fiddle.

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World Famous Bushman

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16 Responses to Wanna Be–World Famous?

  1. Tara says:

    Well, at least he is being unique while asking for money…..I think I might get a really good laugh at his antics and then drop some money in his hand.

    I guess it is “poetry in motion”.

    Your poem has a Hunter S. Thompson feel about it. Maybe there is a new genre in there somewhere, “gonzo poetry”. Your poem has inspired me to think about writing something other than “hopeless romantic poetry”…

  2. jo says:

    What a dude. Love the photo and I read up on his act, great. I wish I’d seen him when I was there. I like the poem, good beat.

  3. Paul says:

    Cool poem and cool dude. I had never heard of him, that’s art. When are you going to put this plan into action?

  4. Bob says:

    You have a San Francisco soul and I’m grateful for it. Very cool…

  5. Scot says:

    Jo
    I stood for the longest time watching and laughing. He is a must see every time I am there–the anticipation watching people walk toward him is priceless

  6. Scot says:

    not sure the plan is beyond the babbling stage is it? Let’s talk and lay it out.

  7. Scot says:

    not sure but thanks 🙂

  8. Scot says:

    Tara–fear and loathing in blogland? Hmm.
    Thanks for dropping in-come back often

  9. enigma says:

    That is so funny, i really got a chuckle out of that.

  10. Scot says:

    not really suppose to be funny.

  11. Paul says:

    You’ll need someone with a video camera, post on youtube, everyone throws a link, woohoo, you are underway,

  12. Vincent says:

    This man, and the references to poverty in Jamaica in your conch-poem, remind me of an incident I saw in Kingston. I was being driven by my regular taxi-driver Stafford and we stopped at a traffic-light on Boulevard Road. He pointed out a man lying motionless face down on the grass verge. Poor Stafford could speak nothing but patois which made elaborate explanations hard for me, but it seems that this man spent his working life lying face down in the grass in various locations like this, so that the tenderhearted like me would stop to see what was the matter, and play Good Samaritan. Hardly performance art, but it was a living.

  13. Scot says:

    Vincent
    It takes all kinds and is strange what we remember. I always landed in Montego Bay and took a cab to Negril. This was before the all inclusives of today–quite peaceful with little foolishness.

  14. Vincent says:

    Aha, I was no tourist in Jamaica. Was chronically sick intending to live there but pension got devalued. I could not walk, nor reach public transport nor afford taxis: but met my beloved, brought her back here, married her and then was miraculously cured of the 25-year illness soon after. So spent my time in Kingston entirely and seldom left the tiny apartment in Duhaney Park. Which did not prevent adventures galore. So one day I do hope to see Jamaica properly!

  15. nectarfizz says:

    Woot!

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