Hardships bypass you so easily
You’re a bubble inhabitant
A social vagabond
A rank of immeasurable registry emanates from men in need of roofs
Over their twists and unsharpened hairlines
Burns from the assiduous defecation through jeans and undergarments
The type that develop rings like trunks
With roots upended by nature, society, and man
Sleeping on rusty wire and splintered wood
You think you’re all good
Kenneth Cole fights for global causes
With your money, fresh garments, and super-chic umbrella
Linens and things knitted by the thinnest digits
Fingernails clicking at sub-standard-living-wage speeds
Dirt-encrusted threads and dreads,
Sandals skin coated with the muck and scum
We revile, but they live it
Whether wet or dry, slightly cold or icy-snowy
Glistening liquid running through our veins
Your pupils dehumanize him
Further emasculate the family-less
His jacket not quite as sleek as yours
Walking a mile in that man’s shoes
Might give you a lifetime of bunions at least
Something you’ve earned in kind …

© jose vilson 2008