The smell hit me soon after I got off the Metro.
On the sidewalk in the throng of milling red
I look over to see the dark mass of bags and clothes
curled up against the outer wall of the Verizon Center.
I am here because of a player’s generosity through
connections I was not aware I had.
I wait nervously at Will Call for a half an hour
before my patron finds me and suddenly
I am no longer on the outside.
In the afterglow of victory,
on my blurring return back to my warm home,
my ears stopped with earbud fiction,
I realize that I have forgotten the discarded one
whose life might have been changed
for the price I should have paid
for my free ticket.
November 7, 2011