LesMisearble

LesMisearble

LeMorde

Dragging
feet sliding step after step as if lame but only tired of walking too
far to find the doorway needed to make the sleeper feel securer in a
world of we the people pulling blanket from the bag then laying down
then one more blanket from the bag how many blankets does it have.
LeMorde not ever sleeping more than just a few minutes of its time at
once a light sleeper must be ready to bound out at once or just to
run. The head in pain the wine bottle lays half empty or half full
the bugs crawl into the neck and start to fill the area to drink the
wine is ruined now. If the homeless was a person with a family they
are now there still alive in memory his heart has suffered death if
they have died. LeMorde his lips curl unexpectedly they drool his
eyes all white he smiles. The gloves have holes the moths have dined
the holes not reaching other holes in time the gloves remaining
gloves but only for a time. His shirt looks fine from a distance but
the salt mingles with the colors of his vested interest and that
aweful smell. The cramp comes to the muscles in his foot then up past
ankle to the half way up the calf the thigh twitching like a horse
that’s racing then it stops stops all at once. His pants are
always too short. The waist is cut to fit a belly overflow the belt
long gone. They reek they shout at people out loud just get away from
me that aweful smell. LeMorde weeps his tears making a stain where
his pillow should have been falling on the cardboard needing to be
changed but lazy is the man with drink just nasty now the roach has
gotten stuck and died in the bottle just inside the lip the wine is
lost. LeMorde gets up to go and try to get another one he begs to
fill his pocket up he needs another 50 cents to buy some mighty fine
wine just brother can you spare that dime. Inside he cries. LeMorde
LesMisearble in time.