He of the clean sort / beard, full and bushy / but eyes with a glint of the madness in them // Twelve butts from / Hand rolled cigarette / 8 to 12 inches away / In direct line with his right knee cap // He sits cross-legged on top of a sleeping bag / that's resting on six cardboard boxes // “Hamnet the Homeless”/ he shouts at me / using a different inflection each of the six times he repeats the phrase / as I pass by.
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