He sat again  --  it was a succession of days now  overlapping Memorial Day  providing him 

a keen solace  --  on a heavy dull battleship-gray painted wooden bench outside the 

Loaves and Fishes

                            the immediacy of his butt sharing the seat where anxious or more desperate moments skinnier butts had tried to manage with some tenor aplomb or distinction  was palpable

their unique renderings

either by circumstances deeply formed by their own hands or minds or those who utterly and simply were beyond their abilities to alter or influence them   seemingly a divined course

                                                                                       by either their own fault or faultlessness   

their base dignity was badly beaten up

                                         and even the ball and peen hammer of the Loaves and Fishes wasnt going to be able to beat out or straighten up their troubles or sorrows

                                                                                                                   though it would help 

and that was all they were asking for

                                                         they had come for help

so the grimy nails clutching the tails of reused plastic bags containing a few staples or provisions for the matter of a couple three days 

                                                            or those hard-aged   or those unfortunate youthful hands 

not yet turned by experience

what they share 

is what most of us dont understand

                                                                 empty bellys

and its hard to do most things

when youre starved

                          0740,  Thursday,  5  6. 14