Balmy mid-morning
with the sun peeking,
the urban selection shows itself
to party-goers returning home
after a regretful
or prosperous,
memorable night.
He had had
too much,
and when his foot
left the sidewalk,
the poor man's soul
left the poor soul.
Out of all the times
I muttered,
"Someone better have died,"
this was the first reasonable obstruction.
The police were on my bumper,
and a woman,
probably the one that killed you
waited,
and covered you with a blanket.
Your family will think
"It's our fault,"
for turning you away
because you didn't have
shit to contribute.
You should have
looked both ways.
