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RUMMY

Contributed by aernby on Friday, 4th October 2002 @ 07:50:00 AM in AEST
Topic: StoryPoetry

He stank.
In the bitter day his face.
His outstretched hand were
Marked by the cold.
He shivered in his filthy
Surplus overcoat. Surplus,
That’s what he was: Surplus.
Selling himself to death
For no price at all.
Trading on my quilty excess,
My uncomfortable affluence,
To score a few cents
To buy the cheap red wine,
The cheap red wine which made the
Snubs and the disgust on the faces
of the suckers he hit up,
for a quarter,
or a nickel,
Fade into a happy mist.
The cheap red wine that
Made his contempt for himself , and
For those who, seeking to be rid
Of his smell and his presence,
Supported his slow suicide,
Easier to bear, easier to accept.
So cold tonight God help the Rummy
Thought I and gave him a dime.

Copyright Â© aernby ... [ 2002-10-04 07:50:00]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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Re: RUMMY (User Rating: 1 )
by Daniela_Maria_Violin on Friday, 4th October 2002 @ 10:57:40 AM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

Those panhandlers on Bloor and Spadina are pretty bad but maybe that dime did more than you thought...

Good write Aernby!

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