For Uncle Trevor aka Mr Bojangles
A Thursday night U turn.
Hamilton, where the wild things lurk
on the golden mile.
Not so golden
For Mr Bojangles,
more dark,dank, damp,
derisive,dangerous and damaging,
that not so golden mile.
Thursday night on main street Hamilton,
Where kerosene cowboys lurk,
Boys drive fast
frightened not of riff raff, cows,nor sheep.
Unmoving monuments of brass,
But of Joe Citizen
just trying to make his way in the world.
No robbers to stop this time,
Just a moment in the new millennium,
taking time to smell the rubber,
hear the grating, crash,
metal on metal.
Rather next time be it roses,
Thursday night on main street.
No place for Mr Bojangles