It is no new thing
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when you enter the 6 train
and the smell of your urine intoxicates me.
You begin your tale with eyes;
as if youíve done this before.
Maybe Iíll glance away from the book I am reading
and look at your cloak, your dirt, your grey fingers.
I will judge youó
Iíve done this before.
Thank you and God Bless
In your voice there is something,
a hollow something
a something that gives me a vision
leaning against a tiled wall, feeling
the pressure of it against your back
then having the courage to smile about something
then remembering something,
then putting one foot in front of the other
again and again
until you reach the end of anywhere, anytime.
Then you lay down in this anywhere and again,
curl up into the guts of New York
and the rats do not get to you.
You know where to sleep.
You extend a fast food cup
and I drop coins and some nothing into it
Maybe I am proud of myself.
Maybe you are grateful.
And just maybe I will return to my home
and think a prayer for you to no one in particular.