having no bills, or change
to give to the man at the corner
with his cardboard sign
and timberland boots,
you hand him a piece of licorice.
he takes a bite as you wait
at the light, then spits it out.
what's this he says.
did they change the formula.
this isn't switzer's.
this isn't the licorice I grew
up with.
yes it is you tell him.
holding up the bag to show
him the label.
I can't eat this, he says,
it's horrible, here, take
it back. this tastes like
sugary wax. it's horrible.
please, don't be handing that
out. it's criminal.
by the way, the light
changed, you can go now.
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