Forgot the turmoil,
The ever suffering?
It’s right around that corner
Shrouded, protected by the darkness of the alley
Sitting lonely on the cardboard.
But don’t mind it;
Ear buds in;
Hands in pockets;
But what’s this?
A mass of black duffel coat
Shaking a paper cup.
Walk on duffel coat;
Bow your head and start to dart
Weaving in and out of people
Black wires sprouting from the top of the coat
Ragged hair as if it has taken over the whole head
It moves faster
The beads of sweat on your forehead grown.
Jump on the back!
It’s almost gone!
Caught just as it was breaking from the curb
Breathing in and out, turn around, down the street
Take out the coins from your pocket to pay your fare
And there in the conductors hand
A small paper cup.