Pastel bandages masked
My bruised arms and knees,
As I sat outside the department store.

It was times like these
Where carrying currency on my person
Was of any help.

I stared at those bandages;
How out of place I looked
In this set-up.

A lone department store with a miserly electricity budget,
Deserted streets full of swamp-like potholes,
And a villainous, silent watcher for a sky.

In the midst of this all I sat on the pavement,
In glossy pyjamas of eye-watering shade of peach,
And cartoon bandages on my elbows.

And then I laughed -
Laughter that sounded like the jingling
Of coins in a beggar's can.

And it echoed -
Bouncing off the walls between
The narrow street.

The curious head of the cashier
Poked their head out
Wondering where it came from.

The look on their face - priceless!
That made me double over;
Letting out more gaseous joy.

And still, they couldn't spot me,
So in they went, back to
The comfort of their little den:

The den full of, literally, convenient items -
Items not just convenient in nature
But conveniently placed.

For the currency I paid was my conscience,
And the laughter that never stopped
Was deadly silent.

•

maits²⁰⁵.

•