by Richard L. Provencher
1/11/2011 / Poetry
During a sidewalk stroll my wife and I approach a small apartment building, where a man with shirttail hung, beard not yet clipped and beleaguered eyes stumbles across our path. Says to my eyeballs with a thick tongue, mister got some small change for a coffee? then stands back searching with puppy eyes needing my thrust of hand in pocket, not expecting a negative response. Got none right now, because my wife carries the loot. His calculating eye sends a signal to his hand, whips out a cigarette and furiously puffs smoke in my direction. Not to be undone I say in a pleasant voice, coffee is expensive these days and small change just won't do it. A few grunts, some stares, my wife waiting; then she and I flee with the wind, leaving shirttail as a smudge in his own conversation.
Richard L. Provencher
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