Somewhere in a mall

a man sits in a chair

and waits for someone

to make him leave.

 

Near my condo,

a park bench

swaps with a wheelchair

in the night.

 

Every morning

he wheels up the road.

A flat road in florida,

not to discredit him.

I don’t know where he goes.

 

On 4th and 5th,

there is a desire path

to the side of a building,

where someone squats

and smokes little cigars.

 

One day I was on 4th-

a woman in a sports bra-

old, and crazy, and black-

not to discredit her-

was screaming like a banshee.

Everyone walked past her.

 

Next to Lowe’s on 22nd,

along the train tracks,

inside shrubs along fences,

little spaces and tents.

Nomads.
I see them from the road.