City Rain  

I saw a man sleeping on a curb.
Some kids came by and kicked him.
He spat rainwater before swearing at them.

There was a woman in the grocery store.
She cut her finger.
She bled on the lettuce.

A young girl stood on the street and smoked.
Her boyfriend talked to another girl.
She cut him apart.

My co-worker got assaulted with a hammer.
He was at work the next day.
Nobody said a thing.

I heard a woman singing outside my window.
Then she got in her car.
I couldn’t hear her.

I saw some graffiti on a brick wall.
Silver paint on red brick:
“I listen to music to remember and forget at the same time.”

A man bought a coffee tonight.
He’ll sleep for sure.
The rain let up.

© 2006 Mike Gravel