A Poem

The organics-only homeless man accepts nothing but change, refusing conventionally-grown apples, taking up his post outside of the local fair trade coffee shop. He wanders amid the stalls...

The organics-only homeless man

accepts nothing but change,

refusing conventionally-grown apples,

taking up his post outside

of the local fair trade coffee shop.

He wanders amid the stalls of the

Saturday morning market,

almost blending in among

the neo-hippies, his scraggly

beard detracting attention from

the saggy seat of his pants

and holey sweater.

He sleeps au naturel, by the

cycles of the sun and moon,

toting all his worldly possessions

in a brown paper Whole Foods bag.

In this article


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