I slip him 3 folded ones, take the thanks
in his glazed eyes home,
to sit at a table. He might offer a name,
steal the flat screen, the china.
I might ask if the sound of rain on a roof
brings to mind a mother’s face.
He has hands to wash cars and dishes.
Is my 3 abetting a man kicked by
the system? We trade lives. He pulls away
in my Jeep Wrangler. In an alley
behind houses the Tiger Rose pint I uncap
stays in its paper sack as I drink it down.

…

Peter Mladinic’s most recent book of poems, House Sitting, is available from the Anxiety Press. An animal rights advocate, he lives in Hobbs, New Mexico, United States.