HEADS OR TAILS, RICHARD?
and Alice's artist friend, Kurt, flipped
and worried a silver dollar the whole time
we ambled around Manhattan, bumblebeeing
into art galleries and revolutionary bookstores.
Coming out of one, Kurt chatted up
a Texan woman who was picking up her rejected
charcoal nudes. She was a flat-out nut,
I reckoned, though Kurt and Alice
enjoyed splashing in the flow of her quick
drawl of scandalous international narrative.
Had she been local, richer and only
slightly more balanced, Kurt could have
stacked another possible crash pad
on the three he has standing by. Spiv,
that's a Scrabble word I love. One who
lives by his or her wits. One day, Kurt,
your figures will be billboard sized.
They may as well be, but will you be
heads up or tails up by then?
This in response to poetic asides prompt "answer poem."