donations

someone tells you
that they saw you the other day
on the street.
you tell them it wasn't you.
it was someone that
looked exactly
like me.
but it wasn't me.
no, they said, i'm sure
it was you.
you were standing at
the corner with a red
can, a sign, you
were reaching
into the windows of stopped
cars for donations
to your own personal fund.
impossible, you tell
them. it couldn't have
been me, I never work
that corner.
I prefer the intersection
of union and king.