The Man From Naples

The man stepped off the Greyhound bus
on the corner of Pacific and Maple
sweating
humming of garlic
Al Green's 'How Do You Mend A Broken Heart'
fading but soothing
he would have to buy new batteries
for his beaten
bargain bucket
five-dollar
walkman
soon
this man could not live without music
his road to Mandalay
there was shallow change
in his
well-fingered
baggy deep chino pockets
enough for coffee
and bread maybe
that was good
he carried the currency
of his multicoloured bongos
under his arm like a baby
on his back
a stuffed falling apart
journeyman rucksack.
inside loud shirts from
'Frank's Thrift'
for one dollar plus two hours ironing
some picture poetry
a toothbrush
some hash
for sleeping
but for now
this crystal
sun charged
road melting
Santa Cruz morning
is a new town to take
a soft song to sing
a heart ripe for breaking
again