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Poems

On Break


A cameraman from Channel 6 Action News

films insignificance  on

the corner of 18th and Walnut.

A police car is parked in front

of TD Bank across the street.

The trash can named

“Big Belly Solar Compactor”

overflows with debris and graffiti

has been sprayed on the side.

Rich foreigners strut around speaking

different languages.

It is night.

Automobiles splash dirty rain water

on the rest of us.

Every few minutes

someone comes up to me

asking for

a cigarette or

spare change, all I can say is sorry.

I only have a few dollars to my name,

one more cigarette,

and something stuck

in my teeth.

12 replies on “On Break”

Sean…IMHO this is one of your best! The details are exceptional and the poem moves beautifully. Not a single extraneous word here…Congratulations

I hate it when people come up to me asking for a light or a cigarette. The fact that you are so desperately dependent on something with plenty of chemicals found in all sorts of cleaning and pesticide products that you need to ask for them from complete strangers shows there’s a problem.

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