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I don't know anything.
I don't have anything.
I don't want anything.

I don't know the time.
I don't have a cigarette.
I don't want food stamps.
Or drugs or whatever else.
You're selling or shilling.
Or grifting.

I know times are hard.
I know you're a dollar short.
I know you've been on the street.
Or a shelter.
Or prison.

I'm not out here at 6am
To talk to you
To entertain you
To supply or to buy
To be your new best friend
Or your pal or your bro
Or your sister or your


I'm out here at 6am
In the cold
In the heat
In the rain
In the snow
To wait for a bus
To get to work
To stand on my feet all day
To earn a wage
To feed my family
To forge my own way
Into a future
I can't see
I can't predict
I can't shape with anything more
Than these two hands
These two feet
These few dollars.

Back away.
Back off.

You're on your own.
You're not mine.

I'm not yours.
I'm not here
For you
For any of you.


May 10, 2024

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