Feltonville Apps: 12.16.13


The punk waving his knife around
in a lot off of C Street, Feltonville—
another kind, a European import,
watches in admiration. Fifty years

later, they’re both dead, & in songs
of the one, memories of the other,
I see how the human race passes
things on, in favor of life or death,

“shooting up pie in the sky” either
way— the lot itself is flatter, realer—
turned on by a lack of conclusions.


Craig’s a Feltonville
character who used
to go door to door
begging money— I
later knew him as a
Center City poet. They

killed him off about
five years ago. Whatever
he tasted of hope in
his life was so crass,
abased, & blood-
sodden that its

humiliating even
to have known him.
He was always a
beggar— his character
never changed.
High windows, right?