Smiley Sam

Smiley Sam picked a nickel from the ground today,
Pulled some change and a bill, an afternoon’s pay.
He stayed out of the rain and massaged his feet,
And attempted to keep his opinions of the passing elite
Quiet and to himself, but no such luck.

Smiley Sam snickered and sniggered slyly,
Praising the pompous pretty people a little too highly.
He washed his face in a fast food bathroom sink
And let the patrons complain quietly about his stink,
For he really didn’t give a flying fuck.

Smiley Sam went to sleep in front of an old store,
One that was closed down for several months or more.
He dreamed that he was plying the Colorado River,
Riding the rapids until it got so cold he awoke with a shiver,
To find that he was being robbed by Little Chuck.

Smiley Sam never did have much to his name,
And for that he never griped or tried to place blame,
But he’d be damned if some scrawny kid stepped on his toes
And stole his bag right out from under his crooked nose,
So he sat up and shouted, but got stuck.

Smiley Sam lay there for several hours,
As the rain tapered off to morning showers.
The cops finally came and covered him with a sheet,
Took him to the morgue and went back to their beat,
Smiley Sam already forgotten.