homeless guy on the n
train
he’s taken up
a residency here
found a place in new york
where the rents won’t put your daydreams into hock
and when he stands to slap box his shadow, man
…see how they run
he’s scaring the stiffs
who get on here every day
with their ten-gallon coffees and smartphones
various scents of whore perfume
and gigolo cologne
enough of a pleasant odor to choke the air
from brooklyn to manhattan
fearful blobs standing huddled
against the poles and doors
powdered faces into scented armpits into
primped coifed hair into manicured fingers
anywhere around him
there’s always a seat to chose
as sea of plastic that he slides up and down
the ghost of christmas yet to come for millions
with his arms flailing and beatific smile on his face
making little kids laugh
when he pulls his dirty green snowcap
over his dirty green face
until their mothers pull them away
throw a video game machine
in their hands
to beep and blop away the vagrancy
plucking away at his beard like a fiddle
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