I read a poem to a guy sitting next to me. He was just some Joe, John Deere hat, jeans, work shirt. I said, "Listen to this," and read him Li Young-Lees "The Gift".
His eyes wandered till I got half way in, and then tears rolled down his face.
"I had a seven year old boy once." When I finished he paid my tab and walked away without a word. How elegant a thank you can there be?
In a red neck bar on the wrong side of the tracks a connection was made.
Leave me the fuck alone. No, come back. I have another poem.