Here is my very late, Friday night entry for Poetry Thursday.
This happy chappy is a bit of street art. Underneath him, are the words
The happy red man has been there for about two years now. One day he will be painted over, but for now it gives us a lot of joy whenever we drive past and see him still there.
We spot it, your street art, through the railings
of the over-bridge, spray-painted
on a boarded-up window ‘you can see
the sky’ painted vertical in black
below. Instructions we follow, lifting
our eyes to see him there, a ruddy, raddle
-red accountant - well, he’s got to be,
with hair like that, black, brylcremed
and perfect. Either that, or a sun-burnt
Four Square grocer drifting off
to paradise. And every time we drive past,
he makes us grin this character that’s yours,
the rosy, pear-shaped guy delirious
with exhaust fumes, blissfully hanging
above where the walkway begins
to spiral, above where the sun never shines.