by Glen Martin Fitch
"Sit down. Relax.
Just tell me
from the start."
"I didn't plan on
getting in this mess.
I strive to be a
helpful man.
I guess I see a soul in need
--right to my heart."
"Go on?"
"This isn't easy here,
you know.
I've needs as well.
I told that bad ass cop,
I offered aid.
I reached.
Then I heard 'Stop!'
But why?
I meant no harm.
You've done that, no?"
"Come on."
"That hurt.
To me, that too's assault.
Why prey upon
my vulnerability?
From nice to nasty!
Why? I mean, ‘Why me?’
I'm sorry things went bad.
It's not my fault.
No, I'm the victim here.
My record's clean."
"You're fifty-four, sir.
She's just seventeen."
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ABOUT THE POET ~
Glen Fitch is a 16th Century poet lost in the 21st Century. Born near Niagara Falls, educated in the Catskills, thirty years on the Monterey Bay he now lives in Palm Springs. Retail not academics has paid the bills. Someday he will finish Spenser's "The Fairie Queene."
Last updated August 23, 2011