Sunday, October 26, 2014


The man stood at the food court
looking toward the fountain

Jim Beam breath and greasy hair
and unsteady legs brought him closer

People looked up from their
plastic trays and paper cups

His boots weighed a ton and
each step took seconds

The wretch stooped down and placed his hands on
the marble lip and felt the spray of water

Copper pennies and nickels shone
like light through stained-glass

slurred body
dizzy speech
head thoughts

He fumbled in his pocket,
took out a coin and hurled
his wish to god and felt better