Poet for Hire

thepoet-sheilaburgos.jpg
poetforhire-sheilaburgos.jpg

I was strolling the streets of Old San Juan, when in the distance I saw a young men sitting on a bench, writing poems on a vintage typewriter, like it was the most normal thing anyone could ever do in public.   I approached him, and we started to talk a little.  -What do you do? "I write poems on request", he told me with a certain pride and fear at the same time.  Do you sell them? I replied..."Well, I just take tips, whatever you would like to donate".   Really? it was like watching a character from a movie, an Indie movie that would be.  He told me he was from New Orleans, and that he traveled the world with his old typewriter, discovering countries, spreading his words on paper and moving on.  A Wanderer....a Poet....an Artist...  

poetforhire-thepoem-sheilaburgos.jpg

He ask me if I had a Poem request, then I noticed he had a paper in the typewriter, with a poem already finished.  What is that? I ask..."This is something I just wrote for a lady I saw, taking a picture of me...She thought I didn't saw her, but I did..." Then, I read, the poem, and just like that, he transported me to that very moment, that I have had thousands of it.  When I travel, when I wander, I'm always looking for that special second that my eyes caught something so unique, that I decide to capture it with my camera phone.  And sometimes, I want to capture the moment, without disrupting it.  So, suddenly, after finishing reading it, I became that lady in the poem.  I ask for it to be mine, I tipped him, gave him words of encouragements, and left him sitting there, "simply a sack of words on a wooden bench" with his RARE tattoo in his fingers..... Kevin Thorne, you are not so rare at all.