KING OF NOTHING

KING OF NOTHING

There he goes, the King, his crown a cap turned about,

checking on his minions, the needy, the lonely, the freaks

spitting and ordering more crime in his barking shout

with his odd walk like he’s a pebble between his cheeks.

He’s a hard man and leers with lewd eyes at the tarts

a ciggy stuck in mouth, blowing smoke and grabbing hips

head darting about so he’ll be there if trouble starts

his round table a park bench, his feast a bag of chips.

In a display of physical prowess he vaults the wall

landing on his feet

in another street

an urban athlete.

Who can’t compete

because life’s chosen a different path , that’s all.

He roughs up the old and young, the week and frail

making the flats pull blinds and double lock doors

he’s King of nothing but acts like an alpha male

seeing no danger, asked by suits to do some chores

these men have money and kill with no thought

he’s unaware and is playing out of his league

These men no longer go down and are never caught

but he’s hooked on the flash cars and intrigue

but then he said

what he’d read

so shot in the head

he ended up dead.

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