butch By Keith Pearson

for years he lived

in a broke down van

behind smiths tavern

swapping his art 

for shots of whiskey

or selling it on

our city streets

for whatever anyone

would give him.

sometimes if he 

liked your face

he would pull something

from his worn leather bag

and put it in your hand.

then one day

the van was gone

and so was butch.

for years his work

hung in windows

around town or

flapped from poles

where he had tacked it

not caring he was 

giving it away.

keith pearson was born and raised in new hampshire and works at a local high school in the math department.