One Corner

 

 

“Gimme Money!

Gimme Seven Dollars!

Gimme Seven Dollars for Beer!”

 

A transient is shouting at peds, 

face to face, in front of the precinct

 at the start of the shift.

 

I walked up to him, 

lowered  my voice, 

and pointed.

 

Walk away from the precinct.

 

“I not doin’ nothin’.”

 

You’re goin’ nose ta nose

with passer-byes, 

hastlin’ people for money.

Leave.

 

“You’re the one hastlin’ people.”

 

That’s my job.

 

“No.! It’s your job to do nothin’

 and leave people alone!”

 

I’m not gonna ask you again.

 

He backs off.

 

I  take his space.

 

He retreats, sprinting away,

flipping me off 

as he flees down the street. 

 

I let him leave. 

I won the corner

for another day.

 

 

 

 

 

Comments

[Lt]

Small battles add up to big differences.

[AF]

Can you come to my neighborhood? This probably makes me sound like a jerk, but I'm so tired of beggars hitting me up "a dollar" or even "just sixty cents, man".