some people
think
he might be a
lunatic
still trying to
figure out
what I think
what is a
suitable label
is one actually
necessary
saw him sitting
lonely
thought I would
sit
for a cup of
the city’s finest
coffee still
unsure
what city we
were in
figured
eventually it would
come up in
conversation
and if I wanted
to know
what he thought
bad enough
probably should
have asked
did not ask and
in a strange way
felt like I
knew this man
always alone
walking that line
nothing to
prove
and some would
still
call him a
lunatic
push him to the
side
and one that
doesn’t matter
twenty-first
century hippie type
faded ink on
his arms
permanent most
but
some random ink
stains
from the pennon
the page
seeing a tear
in his eye
wondering which
was the thought
troubling his
mind
don’t dare ask
as he has
not even addressed
me
since I sat
down…
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