bagel city

A Poem by Cameron

I don't see the world as garbage
maybe more like
a postcard of the grand canyon
dropped into the snow
and pocketed by the homeless man
marty

you know the one
he sleeps, eats, cries, bleeds
in the same patch of snow
under the balcony next to yours
waiting for a fistful of change
something to cross his vision that isn't wet
white
windburnt

so when he sees your lost postcard
he dreams of falling from the edge
his feet slipping gracefully off the cliff
the warmth of the Arizona sun
cradling his withered, fatigued body
as he descends

you know the one
though you don't know his name
(marty)
so instead, you curse the dirty bum
the f*****g dirt-coated leech
the one who stole your grocery store postcard
instead of leaving it where it was
so that your mom would know you remembered her birthday
and think of you as worldly