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
