And then this comes out of just passing someone
on the street who looks down and out
and thinking about what they're thinking
when they see you pass them.
It's called "Words From A Poor Man".
"You'd like to believe that wanting the best for yourself
means wanting the best for me as well.
But so far, to judge by your actions,
it seems to mean you want me to be as happy in my two
cramped rooms by the dock as you are
in you're spacious house by the golf course.
May I feel the meagerness of my window life
far less than you would and be untroubled by noise
and smells you'd find offensive?
May I like my job cleaning boats enough so as not
to be vexed at the end of the week
that my wallet is empty after I've paid my landlord
and bought my groceries?
If I can imagine the lives beyond my reach,
you hope I can rise above resentment
to a lofty tranquility of the spirit you couldn't manage.
So the long list of missed opportunities
isn't a heavy chain dragging me down.
If I can't believe in a future waiting for me with open arms,
you hope I can embrace the moment more tightly than you
can, but I don't require a cloud blue sky for a picnic.
For you, I'm the kind of person who
sees the clouds as adding drama along
with the volleyball game now starting up a few yards
from my blanket.
If I stay to the end, I'll be doing it,
you'd like to believe, not to postpone the hour of going home
as you would if you were me, but because the sight
of the players enjoying themselves
gives me a pleasure more ample and lasting
than any the sight would stir in you."