Categories
Poetry

Al Pacino

I just turned 80 and

Here’s my fourth son

Got a hand deep in my pocket

And I’m pulling out a gun

Jumped it too,

Lips are blue

And now I’m speeding up

Lights are red here

On this street,

All wet from people’s sweat

Here it comes,

My bleeding gums

Not just the lights up there are red

Now my son,

You are young

Before you know it

I’ll be dead.

But here’s the thing,

Green lights sing

And in my eyes

I see green

Forget my debt,

Everyone else has

I’m just as good as

God to all these plebs

You’ll get my jet

And not my skin

And you’ll probably

Live a hundred years.

Leave a Reply

Discover more from Annalog

Subscribe now to keep reading and get access to the full archive.

Continue reading