In The Market

The vagrant chews with half his teeth
because the rest are all just nerves now,
from the years of it,
and after cutting his hand on an
aluminum can he watches roaches
on the wall with so much hatred
they explode before he touches them.

Not enough people stop by
and when they do the talk is boring,
and the windows freeze and fog up
so it all seems claustrophobic
and he’s pleading for some money
from a slacker who is worse at it
than him.

She only shows her face when desperate,
wearing other people’s clothes,
she probably borrowed after pissing
in her own, and she is also seeking
finance for some fuckery.

Between the two of them
they barely have the credit,
and they walk halfway
before they get a ride.

Still, enough is scrounged
for a little to be split
between the two of them,
but the metal heats so nicely
in her hands, he caves,
and lets her have it all.