Poetic Asides based on observation of a person

Out with the Homeless

In a daze, he sits on a curb.

He doesn’t know where he’s from.

Or where he’s going.

A scruffy looking guy approaches.

Dirty, dark complected.

Homeless?

Scruffy guy speaks,

“Hey man, where’s your home?

You shouldn’t be out in the street.”

You should know, he thinks.

“I’m fine.

Just resting.”

And then he remembers.

Ah, the party.

Those pills he took.

He reaches in to his pocket.

A cell phone

He calls home.

Mom’s not going to like this.