Poet "O" of Central Park

I was painting en Plein air one fall day in Central Park and ended up doing a scene near the bandshell. On this occasion, as I was painting, a homeless person ambled up to me with what I thought would be a request for money. Instead, this scruffy character recited a poem he had conjured that very moment in homage to all Plein air painters everywhere. I was flabbergasted! When you paint on the street in Manhattan you develop a bit of a thick skin as its hard to not be conspicuous with a tripod and a pochade in open view. My normal (cynical)reaction would be to
try to avoid this guy but to my amazement, he gave me a gift of great eloquence. As I would later find out this fellow held degrees from NYU but had crashed and burned along the way of life and here he was and there I was.