Thursday, March 17, 2011

Meta-lect 53 (Jacana Común)

16 March 2011. Even gray skies, moist air, muddled yellow ball of sun somewhere behind...

Late at night, in the rain, San Pablo Avenue, pulling in on a quick vector to curb in front of studio building, planning to drop off the morning's supplies. There under under the doorway soffit, a figure asleep in damp plaid bag, gear close all around. He looks up, seeing my approach, scraggly red-brown beard, brows the same, sharp eyes not without anxiety/suspicion. "Just stay put, I'll step over over...," reaching forward with key in hand to unlock the swinging glass door. Inside dark, I leave my things, take the one banana on bead-woven Puerto Rico tray, and a single golden apple--handing them to him as I leave. He reaches up. "Will that be good," I ask? Cracked voice, "Well, I can eat the banana, but I can't chew the apple." Opens his mouth to show me the four remaining teeth...

"Do you have fifty cents so I can wash my clothes...?"

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