Driving home down
the dark city streets
after dumping the
cat food behind
the fast food place
I’m accosted at
the light by a beggar
with his massive hand out
he puts his dreadful
face too close to my
window and smiles
when he sees the
empty cat food bag
perhaps thinking I’m
an easy mark. I look
at the red light ahead
he knocks on my window
It’s not that
I dislike people of the
streets. It’s just that
entitled attitude coming off
a pure pest that keeps
the wallet closed. I’ve read of
times when street people
entertained first, then asked:
the Rev Gary Davis finger-
picking his big Gibson
Humming bird, preaching of
Salvation; Blind Boy
Fuller picking happy ragtime
tunes and singing of sin
back in the 20s and 30s…
of course guys like that
weren’t beggars, but even
if the one at my window
were trying to do something
instead
of acting like his grizzled
face alone deserved mercy
in a world like this, I’d send
a few bucks his way. But
that being not the case
I’ll save it for the strippers
and the cats
thank you
very much
fyodor bukowski, author of Mail Order Annie on Amazon