I've seen the stained
bum cowering in
small crevices
of trash rank streets,
peeking through the
keyhole of sanity,
a hungry stray.

A smudge in the
portrait of society,
staggering
along snakeskin
streets,
a ballsy mouse
in search of cheese.

There, in a can
of woven steel
lies logic,
my leftover lunch
dithering with
amber glare
like a shard of gold.

And through the
shameless coating
of dirt and dribble
lies a perfect arch,
a smile worth a
thousand leftover
meals.

2001 R. Charles
(All Rights Reserved)