I’m Tryna Get A Hot Dog
He sat on the low curb
Across from the entrance of the supermarket
Where boxes and cans of food crammed the shelves
Fresh fruits and vegetables jammed into their bins
He sat his legs splayed out in front of him
His pants telling passers by
Of the dust where he had laid
His left hand holding a yellow paper cup
And him imploring all who came within earshot
As they entered or left the store
Can you spare any pennies today? Please?
I’m tryna get a hot dog. Pennies if you can?
To men leaving with their $20 bouquets of flowers
Any pennies sir? And
To the women Happy Mother’s day
The pickings were slim
A few people whispered a greeting
No one, no one heard the food,
the food
inside
screaming
Take me! Take me.
