Situated under a bench
at the periphery of town
was a drunken, lame, naked man clenching
his lips, forcing them to a frown.
For he was stultified and reduced
to some ragged bones carrying a head that dreamt of a noose.
He had no place to stay, so he just wanted to go.
Yet prostrated without even a jalopy at hand
to where he sat, he was sewn.
And then came a politician
lamming at him a host of promises and things
And the monster man said, "No, I won't have any of that.
Please don't steal the riches of the king.
Let him suffocate in his own greed."
The politician, aghast, exclaimed, "Why don't you want me to help you?"
The bare skinned skinny man neglected to answer, asked in return, "Why do you want to?"
Raising his fist, he said, "Because you're suffering!"
Laughing—incessantly laughing—the poor man said, "Oh, you don't care.
How can a man truly care about a stranger?"
And then the exiled monster man realized
that he to everyone was now a stranger.
So if he refused to accept any help from nobody not deeply known
he would die in danger.
But who would really care, if he was just a stranger?
Maybe a politician in glee with a camera would come by.
He'd patronize and say, "If only for my policy!"
His campaign beatified.
