intertrude

light turns red
waiting in the left turn lane
god oh god
here comes a beggar
cap held low in his hand
walks right up to the car
eyes expectant
is your guilt who you are
and for some reason
i clutched the fiver tighter
the wise one notices the beggar’s bike
propped up against the light post
points and asks
‘why does a beggar have a bike?’
oncoming lanes look all clear
patiently waiting for the left turn light
suddenly a sedan sails past
the men inside
scoop up the bike
and wave it up on their car’s red roof
teeth wide and smiley and eyes full of glee
static overlay
a woman shakes
in a rusted out mini-van
lovingly etched by winter’s quill
honks her horn
fiery skin and cheekbones
she’s rather upset with these guys
but what can we do
eye split parade
the beggar comes running
but he is far too late
and we were deeply troubled
and i wished i’d given the beggar our fiver
discussed the supposed karma of it
and let it go
gymnastics, coffee, a newspaper
gossip and postures
attention diverted awhile
driving back home
stars in the sky
cradle a moonlit lullaby
beggar has his bike back
cap held low in hand
smiling at us
white teeth wide and shiny