planted on the corner of Maxwell and Lime
his sock hat and sunken eyes discomfort
his cardboard sign a handwritten assault
on the boundaries of private property  

trapped at a red light I’m forced to endure
sad accusing eyes I try to disarm
by turning away and looking hard
at something I pretend commands my attention  

angry angry angry he makes me feel
angry angry angry that he wants what’s mine
I fear his begging will wrestle away
my hoarded emptiness so full it’s about to spill  

and when the traffic light turns green
I creep down the road seeing red