Fred Fox
WHY NOT?
In the entrance
to a vacant store
stands a shopping cart
full of bric-a-brac.
Behind it, on the stone floor,
sleeps a ragged clothed body.
All that man owns
is in the shopping cart.
I pause, wonder,
what does he eat?
Where does he bathe?
Has he any friends?
I could wake him.
Give him a dollar
and ask him.
I can’t disturb him.
Though asleep
on a public street
his privacy is respected
by everyone passing by,
I lock my door when I retire.
I worry, have a shotgun.
I have an idea.
It sounds crazy.
I’ll put on ragged clothes.
Fill a shopping cart with junk.
Find a vacant store entrance
and get a good night’s sleep!
—from Rattle #23, Summer 2005