The Youngest Among Us

Hey, we have a juggler
He’s not very good
He needs to try three balls, two is kind of lame
They juggle for tips
He’s not very good, he keeps dropping them
You would have to pay me to watch him… heh heh
Why aren’t they in school

they are
five, maybe seven
the walk the narrow line
between the cars
stopped in morning traffic at the lights
jumping back as
the commuters move on
They ply their trade
to coax
enough change

Do you think
they understand
those who sit in judgement
High and warm
and fed
in their private bus
the realities
of street life
for these
the youngest
of the homeless

Reflections on the Twins

They dance
They prance
they climb, panties high, on the buffet
they throw their shoes
and hairbrush
and insults
at the waiter
they preach
they screech
manners in a modern world
parents look on
not a word
not a look
engrossed in
their own display
of dismissal
snap your fingers,
like being treated
less than human
I’m sure
it will get you
waited on
and laughed at later
flies and honey?
you attract more flies
with the swat
of the Wallstreet Journal
than by any
passing show of respect