Crazy George
CRAZY GEORGE, who bore the likeness of the Aristotle statue at Azalea Botanical Gardens, died sometime last week.
His ashes were spread by the reflecting pool where the feet of the marble sculpture stands. Also laid at the feet were bread crumbs.
Crazy George lived at 715 Norcova Avenue where the tall grass grows. Peeling pain, sagging porch, bread bags and a worn mattress are all that he left behind. He was burned in his well worn military jacket. Old enough to be a WWII vet but no one knows. When his mind went, so did his history.
He frequented the sidewalk of the A&P Market, Colonial Cleaners and Baby Clothes store. The butcher frequently gave him a loaf of bread or bag of Cheetos. He ate around his fingertips and what they touched was dropped for the birds to eat. Small piles of orange or white laying on the sidewalk corners like morning manna for robins and pidgeons. He had several missing teeth, a foul-mouth that he liked to share with A&P customers and keen knowledge of dentistry.
He was a dirty comfort to locals who had taken to his following and need for spare change. And now he is gone. A pair of his socks are resting on the corner next to a large orange-stained circle. The fresh summer rain will eventually wash that away.
His mind is gone. God rest his soul.
His ashes were spread by the reflecting pool where the feet of the marble sculpture stands. Also laid at the feet were bread crumbs.
Crazy George lived at 715 Norcova Avenue where the tall grass grows. Peeling pain, sagging porch, bread bags and a worn mattress are all that he left behind. He was burned in his well worn military jacket. Old enough to be a WWII vet but no one knows. When his mind went, so did his history.
He frequented the sidewalk of the A&P Market, Colonial Cleaners and Baby Clothes store. The butcher frequently gave him a loaf of bread or bag of Cheetos. He ate around his fingertips and what they touched was dropped for the birds to eat. Small piles of orange or white laying on the sidewalk corners like morning manna for robins and pidgeons. He had several missing teeth, a foul-mouth that he liked to share with A&P customers and keen knowledge of dentistry.
He was a dirty comfort to locals who had taken to his following and need for spare change. And now he is gone. A pair of his socks are resting on the corner next to a large orange-stained circle. The fresh summer rain will eventually wash that away.
His mind is gone. God rest his soul.
posted by Bottlerocket at 7:06 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home