mist, fog, covers the town of simpleton
it's not malignant, but buddy doesn't like it anyways
he can't see five feet in front of him
often bumping into things
people, too, though they mind their own business
his journey to the grocery store for milk
goes awry when he trips over a sidewalk
and lands when he thought he would fly
smack down on the ground, change flying from his pocket
escaping the torment of this kid and into the sewers
buddy gets up, already hearing the clink-clank
emanating from those scraps of quarters and dimes
no milk for me, he thinks with disgust
no strength for me ever to come up