Man in White
October 2nd, 2009
By Sofiya Hupalo
Day after night he saunters via Main Street
dead cigarette butt, hair hanging loose
shedding strands of mane
A white slip covering his knees, breasts.
Swelling with disturbance, yet
plump with proud flesh
He waits for real people
to talk,
and we wait for him
to leave
Only to clean our streets
with dirt itself
He does not speak, you see,
a meandering pace of unease
is what he knows best
And perhaps some wisdom,
but nobody
is really certain.
