At 4:21 pm, a tube sock salesman
appeared at the screen door
in my alleyway.
He left my presence without
becoming any richer.
He put a hat with money in it in my hand.
Upside down, the hat held $1.37 in mixed coins.
The salesman told me to get some
noodles to eat with it.
He also gave me some knee-high socks.
‘For warmth,’ he said, ‘and dreams.’
Currently, my warmth and dreams are filled with coins;
not one red cent is spent
on postage.
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