boy george

just like the babysitter ordered this
next, two rounds, but first…
let me introduce you to a little boy
he owned a farm that ran for miles
away from the realities of desperation and deprivation
his three sons were lost at sea
without work or desire or future
or maybe that was him?

the foam mattress, stained with the sleep dirt
accumulated from one who stumbles
and falls into sleep
much like a poor sick animal

I envision this hostility now
the way he approached us with so little contempt
for the world, just a basic search
for happiness and gratitude that others
will speak with him about more than settling the bill

sadly, boy george wasn’t looking for a solution we could offer
but he was looking to speak a little Français
and I was all too pleased to offer.

after all, what more could I do for this man?