Edward Scott
As much as I would like to say, these poems are for your enjoyment as well as mine. I hope you like them. There’s an old saying that everybody has at least “one in them,” here’s mine, The Midnight Window.
Edward Scott is the author of The Midnight Window, a book of poems with touching qualities. In 1965, Edward Scott entered this world in Sparta, Georgia to his loving parents. Here, he attained his early schooling before moving to Delaware where he graduated from middle school and high school. Thereafter, he received a degree in Journalism from Delaware State College (now Delaware State University) in Dover, Delaware. He still resides and works in the state.
The Con man
Some slick “well suited dude”
Came to my house.
Telling me,
I got the “gift.”
Dressed in the finest
Britches and top coat
Money could afford,
He addressed me as “Sir.”
For a slight moment,
I had to look around
To see whom he was
Talking too.
Then he proceeded
With a weird jester,
He pulled his hand
From underneath his overcoat,
Like he was going to give me some money,
But; he was a friendly fellow.
He wanted to shake my hand.
We did.
Next, the slim “well versed”
Gentleman began to converse
On some foreign topic
That was gibberish.
He is still holding my hand.
Now, I’m thinking,
How can I repossess my hand
Before this shyster
Rudely interrupted my leisure time?
I cut him off
With his mouth wide open
And his brain smoking.
His expression and reaction
Were that of someone
Blowing a fuse.
I told him,
“I got no money.”
Then, he released my hand
As if I had
Infected him with poverty.
POVERTY
You need not be black
White, red, yellow, or brown
To tell poverty.
Some things are so universal
That it needs no translation
Because it feeds on our persona.
Poverty has a smell
Which shocks our senses
And sometimes gags us.
It’s an unconditional state
Whereby your physical being
Means nothing
And your mind concludes
To reasoning
That you solely exist
To be used by others.
