D.B. Cox on the Other Side of the
american business card
the pitchless hum
of an idling greyhound
combines with the suffocating
fumes of diesel fuel
to soak the night air
with noisy poison
a skinny panhandler,
wearing a kid’s
spiderman tee-shirt,
sits crumpled, like lost luggage,
just outside the brownsville
bus depot
hard times & places
chiseled
across his face
like engravings
on a tombstone
two hollow eyes,
like piss-holes
in the snow,
stare blankly
at the casual caravan
of human traffic
as it flows along
with its totally
assured sense
there’s a wrinkled
square of cardboard
at his side --
a kind of faded-brown,
contemporary
american business card
with the fractured
graffitti,
“out of work”,
scrawled across the front
one look at this guy
& you know he’s
done for -- & knows it --
& yet, accusing eyes glare at me,
as if i could somehow save him
what’s going on here
can’t someone help this man
right now,
before this humiliation
goes on any longer
somebody has to make things right
is there no one
who can put an end
to this hopeless unraveling --
________________________
the pitchless hum
of an idling greyhound……………………………………..
© Copyright D.B. Cox 2005