The Vagabond Poem by Alexandre Nodopaka
The Vagabond
sat
at the opposite end
of the park bench.
I could smell him
at a distance
but I watched him
squirm for some time.
I asked him
what his problem was.
He replied
that a long time ago
he saw a movie
dealing with the
Marquis de Sade
who wrote
with his feces
on the walls of his cell
and he was trying
to emulate him
in the blind.
Wednesday, October 3, 2018
Topic(s) of this poem: archiving
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9/20/2024 11:51:51 AM # 1.0.0.1119
