Grubby. Gray hair crawling down the
gutter. He
looks over at me. Needs Chapstick.
Gotta dolla?
I stare and I sweat. I'm
you soon. A horn honks. He
grins with a
toothless mouth. I walk away
quickly... Head down.
Steven Ralph
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/tryin-to-draw-a-picture-with-fat-crayons/