The man with a thousand tattoos
Shuffles up and down State Street
Clothed in a colorful bodysuit
A skeletal but striking canvas on display
He can’t sing or dance
Not even a circus performer
But he’s a moving work of fragmented art
A homeless collection of ink and poetry
The focal point of a tourist wielding a digital camera
A stick figure riding a bike under the full moon
Daddy-long-legs with full-body-tats in broad daylight.
Crow On The Wire 
0 comments on “Poem: Tattoo Man by Mark Tulin”