Today I could hear a man
screaming, even down the street,
before he got to the harsh lights
of the cafe.
'Help me, help me,' he sang.
His dirty hands clutched at people that left,
finally filled up,
and they looked at him with lazy white eyes
stolen from desert custards.
He came in and told me someone was after him,
they had shot at him,
'Bang bang!' he mimicked.
He smelled sharply drunk
and I told him he could not be inside,
because he was not wearing shoes.
He would not leave, and I went back to cleaning.
As long as he was not making
a scene he could stay.
The cops came, and parked in the street blocking
all traffic. He walked out to them with
hands up.
"Someone is out to get me."
They took him away drunk, drug packet
wrestled from his pocket now hiding inside
the trunk.
"Someone is out to get me."
Later I carefully peeled a banana
and left it sitting on a plate,
as an offering to them.
I could see his demons bouncing off the walls.
Later on, before close I found the bags of cocaine
he'd left, by the restroom
down the hall. "Someone is out to get me."
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