The Car Salesman

Human empathy, concerning

That I should pity this drunken man beside me:
Dirt-smudged from a peppered livelihood,

Whose gun clip I hid when he was tripping on mushrooms,

Whose face I was reminded I had almost bashed during the blackout of whiskey,

Who claims a girl who is not his woman—

She remains at home, with her two children.

Again we are drunk, on liquor

And the girl beside him I crave.

This girl beside him he will stave

From me.

Besides, she is beside him and I am beside myself.

She bends for her shoes.

He slips his hand behind her,

Through her legs, over her pants, touching her vagina.

Her alarm turns to charm.

Empathy must occupy the heart of the seasoned judge,
Of the justified executioner.

I am of the new world:

Though exiled in my baser drunkenness

I recognize the verdicts of the older world,

Yet still my hands are clean.