1

high atop his soapbox, deeply needing to be heard
spray paint on the panhandler's hands
matrix of prisms
houndstooth suit
top hat
art
draws eyes
he hopes minds
L.E.D. stars shine
he towers in doorways and pubs
whistling snappy tunes then with panache he clears his throat
half of the room turns to face him
he catches your eye
he entreats
"exalt
TRUTH"


2

Truth?
shakes head
commotion!
she narrows her eyes
husband exhales an angry breath
Some rowdies near the bar start chanting "Truth", like parrots
husband raises hand for the cheque
debates but still pays
dons red cap
with pride
struts
strong stride
at the door
they come face-to-face
reciprocal recognition
the artist flashes the peace sign and the couple scowls