vagabond poser

out of work
again
you roll up a
bag of
clothes
and tie them
to the end
of a stick.
you hop on
a box car
rolling slowly
south.
you figure you
can pick oranges
in florida
for a few months,
but your grande
starbuck's cup
of extra
hot vanilla
latte,
skim, with
your name
scribbled
on the side
gives you
away and the other
vagabons cheer
and laugh
through their
broken teeth
as they shove you
off into
the gravel,
holding your cup
high so as
not to spill
it's contents.