Hand in hand
Through Alameda street
You smell like vanilla cigars
And smile with velvet lips

Hand in hand
Our heartthrob movie scene –
No butterflies but herds of street pigeons
No violins but the cries of drunks
No daises but rats climbing up the trees

Hand in hand
Very nice
Very nice

Hand in hand
A homeless man
With an eye-twitching fetish
Extends his lonely hand at us
Rotten golden nails
A patched up fourth of a thumb
“Got any change kids?”

Hand in hand
I use the other to reach
Into my pockets
Dig for nickels
With silver dead men
The coins bounce and jingle
To his warm palm

Hand in hand
You do none of that
But expose a sad
Rotten mouth
“No change, but
you know what?
God bless you!
God bless you!’

Hand in hand
No more
You’re too
Fucking warm



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