Typical
i feel so comfortable
in a wheelchair,
i'd just need
a cupholder
& a bag for
books & pot
& cigarettes
& a little carboard box
to beg for change
& i'd sit reading
apathetic little poems
out of a little
black book
in some dull
droning
voice making
it all seem so
typical
but then i'd just want
someone to push me,
so i'd ask some girl,
the one who
gave me bills,
to push me
down the street
a while
& i'd bum
a smoke
& she'd buy me
coffee
& i'd thank her
& she'd never ask
about it & who
knows what i would
say anyway
& she'd think she
was really doing something
good
until she'd see me
later that
day walking out
of a bookstore
with a face full
of cigarette
& then she'd find something
to say
& i might offer
her a cigarette
& wash my hands
of the whole thing.
Copyright © David Glines | Year Posted 2005
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