Span-gin

My daughter
got her first job
and I’m proud of her.
She’s surviving
spangin
on street corners
cause the times are a changin’.
Can’t you see the cardboard signs
They’re everywhere.

She the prettiest beggar
in the nation—free as can be
eating gourmet from garbage cans and
sleeping in blind alleys.

She hums bumblebee hymnals
to burgundy sunflowers to pass time,
spits watermelon seeds at dirt
that compliments her eyes,
hola hoops to fruity loops
beside Danky Dank and Mr. Fun Guy

The dark wavy hair
She got from me
Is clumped in dreads.
Armpits and legs unshaved,
But perfect teeth-
So she smiles under any circumstance.

Now she’s:
FUCKING HUNGRY
BROKE TRAVELING FOLK
WHOSE DOG’S BEEN KIDNAPPED AND SHE ONLY NEEDS .98¢ FOR RANSOM

She will:
Sell you her SOUL FOR A COLD ONE or
BET YOU’LL READ HER SIGN FOR A DOLLAR
Or that YOU CAN’T HIT HER WITH A QUARTER

She needs:
GAS
MONEY FOR DRUG RESEARCH and
KUNG FU LESSONS
BECAUSE NINJA’S KILLED HER BOYFRIEND
AND SHE WANTS REVENGE

So, if you see her,
the girl with daisies and lavender in her hair,
give her A BUCK FOR GOOD LUCK,
and let my little girl know I miss her.