I know you

For me, it was an old Catholic priest

who picked me up hitchhiking,

touched my cheek, my inner leg,

asked me if I was an Italian

sorta little boy

I jumped out at the first stoplight

shaking, shivering on a humid day

I know what they will try

to do with you

Better to walk with a backpack burden

than hitch a ride in these times of trouble,

to be cold and alone than fondled

by a sick old man wearing a collar

I know what you know

A guy like him is probably still cruising

up and down the same bus route

over there on Troost Avenue



Previous/Next/Social Justice/Home