My shopping cart is full…
of plastic bags, as you might expect.
It goes everywhere with me,
not just to the car, as they do in suburbia.
And on weekends, like this one,
I normally hunker down under this here tree,
having begged throughout the square
in a city short on pity.
And while today the square is packed,
those folks paid me no mind.
If their cups runneth over,
I wasn’t privy to the slack.
They weren’t there to rescue me from misery;
They were auditioning for supporting roles in history.
So I took the hint
and flopped where police might not notice my vagabond existence.
But when the speech-making got the crowd a thundering,
even I felt hopeful that this world would soon be transformed.
“We need change!” I heard him say, “I’ll be that change!”
Well, you don’t have to beat me over the head with that.
A home-cooked meal,
and oh, a home too — nothing fancy — a room will do!
Some blankets and heat would make it complete.
Change…I can dig it!
In my cup and in my pocket,
but he wasn’t talking to me, was he?