Feeling like shit, with cars strung out on the roads,
The planet’s organisms going to an avoidable hell,
The drunk and drugged street man asked me for money.
Like I said, I felt like shit.
I shook him off.
I looked back; he was sitting in front of the convenience store.
I finished my coffee refill, and walked back to him.
“What in it?”
“Cream and sugar.”
I go back to the store, and order his coffee, taking advantage of my senior discount.
He’s no senior, but the years have wasted him until he could be.
I hand him the coffee.
His dirt-crusted fingers brush mine as he takes the cup and thanks me.
He’s moved from the convenience store to the laundry, where he sits on a curb.
He starts on the coffee.
I feel less like shit.
I plan to write my Food Bank check – soon ….