as i sit at the long
light
waiting for it to change
from red to green
with the window down,
a man leans into my
window
with whiskey breath
and tells me that it's his father's
fault that
he's homeless and on
drugs,
without a job.
it's why
i sleep out at night
under the bridge, he says.
the shelter has a curfew man,
and they
test you for alcohol.
he shakes some bugs out
of his beard.
my mother
and father
didn't love
me the way yours did, he says.
he has
the googly eyes,
as i hand him a few bucks
and tell him,
to be careful out there.
you too, he says, the government
is watching you,
they're in your phone, man,
the aliens too,
they're already here, he yells
out, as the light
finally turns green and i pull away.
he's probably right.
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