The Bum King

Bum King is a loser in a winner’s car.

He’s hard to see in the bright city.
You can lose him in the wild weaving

between the golden glow of streetlights.

The car is new, the music is curated,

the clothes are tailored like the words.

Even if every window in the city was an eye,

they could never see the boy inside the man.

Those windows are fixed.

They can’t follow off stage.

When the costume comes off,

Bum King is a loser.

Bum King just follows his feet.

Bum King just looks at the ground.

Home is a small place.

Deep in quiet moments

Where no one else can fit.  

The boy wants be seen.

The shame says no.
The past says no.

The mistakes say no.

So he studies the script,
he rehearses the words,

he puts on the costume.

When it is time to go back outside,
that boy is nowhere to be found.