(found in a small notepad
deep within a drawer,
written who knows when)*
Sunday,
and a parking meter
grows a beard.
It’s just a man
looking for the
holy grail.
He’s wearing
midnight blue coveralls
and a toolbelt.
Nobody
is as full of himself
as that man over there.
He has a
beard,
also.
And drinks a
blueberry smoothie
like me.
*For some reason I feel cheap today.
