Bud Devore

by August 30, 2020 0 comments

Standing there in his bib overalls
In front of the corner store,
Drinking soda, unshaven and shabby,
Stood the man named Bud Devore.

He worked at Brown’s store for soda,
And maybe a little loose change,
Sometimes he talked with the customers,
Most of them thought him quite strange.

He walked down the alleyways humming,
He fixed up old radios,
Where he learned electronics,
Only the good LORD knows.

I interpreted for him sometimes,
His speech hard to understand,
Rheumatic Fever afflicted boy,
Speech defective man.

His brother gave him a walrus tooth,
Then his brother moved away.
Bud was proud of the walrus tooth,
He showed it off every day.

Nobody could beat him in checkers,
At least, nobody in town.
He took on all comers in his old shed,
Until very few came around.

It seemed Bud was around forever,
Though he eventually faded away,
But he is still standing in front of Brown’s store,
When he crosses my mind today.

editors note:

We all have such ghosts, remembered as place is passed. (We welcome Bruce to our crazy congress of Contributing Poets with this submission. Read more of his madness on his new page – check it out.) – mh clay

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