I saw a man on the side of the road.
He had nothing to his name but
two dogs and
a young girl with
a smile and
a shaved head.
He held a cardboard sign that
read "ANYTHING HELPS"
with a parenthetical
"WE'RE TRAVELING."
I was ashamed to look
to my right because then
they might
see me,
might
read the
pity on my face and
know
anything I could give
wouldn't help because
I had just come from Wal-Mart,
and having spend most of my
money on
five-ninety-eight
headphones with
forty-cent tax,
I couldn't help, because
my Gramma said that
some people make
a living doing
things like that.
And while she closely examined the
soles of their shoes and
the health of their dogs,
I sat back,
quietly trying to find excuses for
these things but
at the back of my mind
all I could think of
were
five-ninety-eight
headphones with
forty-cent tax.
