The Hidden Hinge Poem by A.K. Cola

The hidden hinge identifies the fingers of lepers by squawking at scales,
Justice latent on invisible touch, blind as the gavel's shadow, he coughs
Into a closed fist and stares the length of his street, situating each cause
And effect-
To brag of its place in time. A moment's heartbeat and the pulse of toes
Resting on the brake, modern art, a flag stagnant in heavy wind. He removes
A handkerchief from his breast pocket, dabs away sweat accumulated on facial stubble
Peppering his stiff-upper-lip.He opens the kerchief to its full potential, places a face
Onto the splotchy design, intersecting mini-squares, situated like a tic-tac-toe board
Adorning construction paper, or any parchment brave enough to embrace chance.

The caretaker for the parking-meters shuffles to and from each measure of time, emptying the street
Value of an hour with a screwdriver and bucket, concealed under lock and key.

This is why we searched for two dollars' worth of change in the sofa and underneath the driver's seat.
A purpose is only bountiful when counted to remiss,
Pennies at the fountains floor, leper colony sponsored by Coca Cola…an empty stomach
Croaking at food and newborn alike…