Herbert Nehrlich - The Bum

Saliva dribbled down his chin
unkempt and filthy, also fragrant
tanned features with a silly grin
his name was Alvis, just a vagrant.

He sat next to the heater duct
of Walmart's parking lot in Seattle
and mumbled, 'what a life, I'm fucked',
his dress was not the one for battle.

A paperbag held in his hand
clutched like a treasure to his heart
inside the cheapest vermouth brand
and as he turned there was a fart.

'The happiness', he then explained,
'comes with the territory here
it is not life that's thus maintained
but love of self, without the fear'.

'I choose this independent life
and do not want to ever go
back to the suburbs and a wife
that's where no soul will ever grow.'

Madeira said the cheerful label
the bag had fallen by his side
I thought he might perhaps be able
to take himself for a great ride.

How could he think a life of bums
could be attractive to a man
to sleep outside and wait for crumbs
and get an alcoholic tan.

I left him then and there for good
could never grasp the rationale
and failed to see how someone could
escape this world. His name was Al.

Herbert Nehrlich

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-bum/