he woke up dreaming he was
President-elect there at the
food bank not able to spell T-o-p
R-a-m-e-n but still discussing
the world-wide food crisis in the
loudest of fuck you syllables
with a couple of unactivated
credit cards stapled to a sunken
chest and so especially proud of
a 30-year-old car and that time
getting handcuffed for drunk
driving in front of the Human
Resource Center counting how
many children he has by the
tracks in his arms with three
bindles to the slow motion wind
yet still not recognizing most of
the other names on his application