Gustavo Weissman; named the Pocket Poet because he goes to open mic nights with his pockets bursting with poems. You might be lucky enough to find him downtown on Tejon Street in Colorado Springs, sitting on a bench with his ancient type writer perched in front of him. He doesn’t own a car or even a bicycle, and is staying at a friend’s house, but knows something that others in a similar situation don’t: He has to earn his living. So he writes custom poems for curious passersby, pressing through the fear of criticism that he might encounter from people who don’t get what they expected. This one in particular I paid him $5 for, and asked him to write about his own hometown and childhood.
