I met a man

hunched
outside
of bart

holding a cane
and cardboard
and words

I thought to stop

he thought
to talk
to me, too

“look,”
he said
pointing
at everyone

streaming
through the gates
as light
through leaves

“they’re all
so beautiful
every one of them!
and they don’t know it!”

I looked through
his eyes

that man
is me
but he probably
can’t code

“why,” he asked
“can’t they see it”

“because”, I offered,
“they were raised
in a world
that blinds”

he made
a sign
“that’s deep,”
he said,

“I guess
when they killed
my wife
and my baby
it really
fucked
me up”