Yesterday, I smelled a dead man’s body.
And the flies knew before I did,
Like some new restaurant, they were
At the door, even going underneath it.
I knocked repeatedly and no one
One minute standing and the next
I saw the man, thin, goateed, gray-haired
Seemingly viable, kind, and soft-spoken.
His car was without hubcaps, one of those
Light Toyotas, dark-colored like the night sky.
He always wore the same jacket, pants and shirt
That matched his car.
We had cordial conversations and not much more.
I never thought to bother him.
We have our own lives.
Maybe he lost his job,
Fell off a ladder,
Had a heart attack;
I just don’t know.
There was a gentleman’s silence
No family, no wife, no children,
Perhaps the economy is to blame:
Enron, Bank of America, anything
Too big to fail?