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| Pike Place Market Seattle, Washington |
Screaming like a madman
he weaved his wheelchair back and forth
across the busy street.
Without a shadow of a doubt he was playing roulette,
daring the gods to send a careless driver
to put an end to it all.
But he was lucky that day.
I saw him the next morning
just where he’d parked the previous night,
clinging to evergreen mist
next to a tulip stand.
Having rained all night it was cold
and he was soaked to the bone.
What would it take, I thought,
in this city of great wealth?
They say it only takes a roof,
some food
and a few friends
to be as happy as Donald Trump.
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