I talk with him or,
Perhaps I should say,
He talks at me,
And I immediately
Notice the tightness
In his face, a hardness
That is almost off-putting,
A sense that there is
Some kind of danger of
This person before me
Coming undone and causing
A caustic ruckus.
I wonder how he got
To this place and whether
He’ll ever leave it,
He says something or other
About the moochers.
