A note
he stands on the corner
between queen and the quays,
where it meets with the liam
mellows bridge. each night
he is out there, making
taps against windows
of taxis in stacks going
home from the bars. slim as a note –
if he took a good shit
he would vanish. if the wind
blew he’d – look: once
I gave him a fiver. yes –
a note! paper money!
the price of a pint! drunk,
I felt generous, and then
for a long time was noted.
I got said “hello” to –
called “sir” – it was awful.
used to wave – used to give him
some more when I had it.
though that wasn’t often
since who carries cash?
anyway – I haven’t seen him
lately in months.
might be dead – shit
he never looked healthy
and there’s plenty of heroin
I’ve heard been around.
or maybe (perhaps)
he got off it. maybe took a shit.
Stink Eye Magazine 