I don't have time.

A blind man is walking

across the same street

I am trying to turn left on.

He’s not doing a very good job.

His cane swings

like a madhouse maestro

and there’s something symphonic

about how desperately he wants

to find the other side of the street.

The cars behind me are starting to pile up.

There’s an old woman in a gold Buick waiting for the light to turn green.

She’s crumbled behind her steering wheel,

cowering behind hot leather

and shitting in her Depends

while the blind man slides his cane across her hood

shuffling by the front bumper.

At least he’s far enough for me to turn.

Maybe I should stop.

I could pull right up in that driveway,

help him those last few steps to the curb.

It’s hard not knowing where you’re going.

but I’ve got five minutes to clock in .

If I’m late, I’m suspended. Thats money

already spent. I should just sit behind

my window tint and

drive.

I don’t have time. I have bills.

Maybe someone else does.

I sure hope they stop.