Diogenes
..
In the centre of the city     at the cross
is a man     Diogenes     suited and booted
he rifles     through a bomb proof bin
..
He pulls out an arm     with a half squashed
sandwich     a bite mark at corner     and waves it
at a thick     lipsticked woman     on stilt heels
and twists crust     points it like judges finger

Men don’t think about sex     every ten
seconds     they think where’s my socks
where’s my lunch     and I’m late for work

An office lady     staring at him     scrunches the paint
on her face     leaving mud banks     at corners
of eyes     she veers away     from the soggy
lettuce     and floppy bread     tumbling like a clown

Do you mind     I’m on my lunch break
hold my calls!

Diogenes smears mayonnaise…