Nothing good can come of this
Noted the plain man for his soul
I lent over and distorted my frame
To put a coin in his bowl

On closer inspection his pullover
Flew out at me in rainbows
And his eyes glinted through a face that was hurried
But for all time, slow

We chewed the cud for an hour
My spineless talk criticised power
The rain fell mercifully
And he sauntered off to ***

I said I didn't like to see people unhappy
More to myself than to him
He said I was a 'good lad'
I said the little guys would win

Who is the benefactor
In a time-drenched street?
The hypnotised or the ostracized
The elephant in the room,
The mouse at your feet?

© Copyright David Bosworth July 2023