About that poster of James Dean walking, hunched over in the rain. . .

So what are you looking at?
I saw you
before you saw me

To be a shadow
I dressed in black
and crossed this street
ignored the puddles
rippled under my feet

And before my foot met the walk
I bent over and picked up
this butt
you now see on my lip
Fifty years from now
they'll call it "Hip"

means nothing to me

'Cuz fifty years from now
you'll still be
watchin' me
walk down this street
you'll be the sap
I glanced over at
with the camera that pissed me off

© Gerry Mattia 2025
© “Patio Poetry” 2000 - 2025