Sixth St, Late Fall (Charity)

I was standing outside the door

                Smoking a cigarette.

(This was back when I smoked.)

She came up to me with a sad story:

She was visiting from Chicago

                And her car was broken down

                And she just wanted $5 for something to eat.

                And couldn’t I just spare it?

Couldn’t I just be a saint?

Later, when I related the story,

The guy I was telling it to laughed.

Said she was around a lot

                (And hadn’t I seen her?)

Said she’d hit him up several times, himself.

Said “Chicago my ass.”

He nearly spat.

And when I told him I’d given her the five

                He told me I was a fool.