JokerMan

He skates on the skirts of Grant Park

While the extras surround, slow

Not wanting to be "that one"

Who pushes, even though, even us

Who are too cool to stare, look over

Notice his humble roll and others

In the film make their presence well-known

With standoffishness, scowls, crowds and phones,

But he skates on, skates by, stops at some kids

Who don’t know who he is

And he likes it like this, anonymous,

Just a cool dude ridin’ by

No fanfare, no photos, no wants, no needs

He can just be

And he is.

My friend, Elise, a good actress

Makes small talk with him

As he smokes a cig

And listens to her words

Then thanks her and rolls away

And goes back to trucks

To toss on make-up and become the

Jokerman

And months later, when all us extras go

To the theater and see what he did

We cry from every emotion that comes up

From our guts come hurt; hurt pauses at heart,

Hurt prays, says thanks; goes to eyes,

And falls down cheeks

And we’re all a better

For having had Heath

'Cause he is.