They hugged the corner of the food stamp cafe
where we could get beans for pocket change
Comparing our woes and our lacks
Staring at each other´s eyes
begging and provoking sympathy
The cook´s distrust a stronger taste
than sache salt
The street sunlit and discolored
neediness attracted us like flies
A certain amount of our selfish lives
and those whopping failures swimming between
Now we beg and watch for wallets
Fussing for curb space
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