Tuesday, July 24, 2007


Once a year I punch a busker
like I did yesterday while he strummed loudly
and he like others in the past
reacted without anger because they know
their trumpet or their pipa is uninvited
on the platform or above it.
It isn’t a concert.

Don’t worry.
I pulled out my dollar
and handed it to the pedal steel player
bleeding above his eye.
He lives tax free
which makes us both feel better.

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