Charleston

[Achebe]

My crit below. 

Workin' the ciiiiity, drawls the fat man's eyes - eyes speaking = cliche. Drawling makes it sound cliched and absurd.
as he lumbers away, a five-dollar bill and tin-foil - what's the tin foil?
shoved pizza in hand. The sign, scrawled in - the emblem on the pizza box? what sign?
wavering Sharpie, is left behind to wither away
in its own shame.  - didn't understand this at all

lulu bag clinging to my bare shoulder,
extra-large sunglasses that don't fit right
hanging off the edge, marks me as alien: - why?
a dream-walker, a never-been never-will
street-walker.

Push the sidewalks until the heels
of your pink feet burn in protest. Push
the sidewalks in thump, thump strides.
It's all about the rhythm.

werk the sidddy, chuckles the breakdancer
on the corner of market street, shiny bucket
outstretched with part-defiance part-desperation. I dump 
my cash in proudly. - why proudly? Abstract adjective, doesn't bring the line to life

The bridge is big and bold, less cliched now
backlit by construction projects, and dark 
river water lapping against marsh sand but "But" implies that in the next few lines you will say something contrary to the bridge being big, bold, or backlit. That doesn't happen. 

it's the silhouettes,
tucked in concrete corners,
that set fire to my willing mind: Silhouettes are not inflammatory. The idea is good, just needs rewording.
petty thieves? rapists? serial killers? No need to make it explicit. 

Work the city, whispers a Latino woman I walk by.
She holds a gray cigarette between
tired fingers; she blows gently."tired fingers" - not particularly evocative. Think of something else. Why does she blow gently?