fashion-house

The past is never
far behind us, or, so

says my street-spirit.
Trudging along on the

91, I see him. Sitting,
scratching the itchy

concrete (it can't be
good for his fingernails)

he stops, grins and
waves his bright white

gloves about! Then, he
pulls out his broken comb

and grooms himself, because
this man knows - image is

everything, especially,
when you're homeless.