deepundergroundpoetry.com
Shame in Times Square
The child beggar's eyes
still stare at me
beyond the plate of ham and eggs
and Sunday's papers
I had no more coin
only one last small banana
not even ripe
which she slipped expertly
beneath her too big billowy dress
lest it vanish to another mouth
amongst that throng
of raggedness
Dirty tear stains etched for life
faces frantically seeking a lost childhood
leave zero appetite
for the neat and tidy smugness
of shallow western ways
And in a world apart
where the white glove of a hero
makes fortunes at auction
its famous fingers tweak
the stranglehold on my heart
still stare at me
beyond the plate of ham and eggs
and Sunday's papers
I had no more coin
only one last small banana
not even ripe
which she slipped expertly
beneath her too big billowy dress
lest it vanish to another mouth
amongst that throng
of raggedness
Dirty tear stains etched for life
faces frantically seeking a lost childhood
leave zero appetite
for the neat and tidy smugness
of shallow western ways
And in a world apart
where the white glove of a hero
makes fortunes at auction
its famous fingers tweak
the stranglehold on my heart
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