the poverty of philosophy by Howie Good

I waved a dollar out the window.

We brushed hands as he took it.

Thank you, he said. I said nothing,

just rolled my window up

and  waited with renewed impatience

for the light to change.

You know how it is,

I couldn’t help but doubt, at least a little,

the crudely lettered sign he held.

Then I remembered

that cavemen depicted running animals

by giving them eight legs.

Howie Good has been published in The New Verse News.

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