I stood at a bus cornerone afternoon, waitingfor the #2. An oldguy stood waiting too.I stared at him. Hecaught my stare, grinned,gap-toothed. Will yousign my coat? he said.Held out a pen. He worea dirty canvas coat thathad signatures all overit, hundreds, maybethousands.I’m tryingto get everybody, hesaid.I signed. On alittle space on a pocket.Sometimes I remember:I am one of everybody.
Monday, November 28, 2011
"What's With the Coat?"
Posted by Phyllis Cole-Dai at 1:16 PM