My Cardboard Balcony

The Loiterer by Belinda Roddie Well, stick a rose behind my ear, dress me all in purple, and dip my fingers in rainbow sprinkles. Just make sure my new suit doesn't have any stubborn wrinkles. The sugar on my skin is a perfect rival to the salt, the perspiration clinging to my hair as I begin my solo waltz. I'm hoping that you'll notice me outside the grocery store, where I'm radiating sunlight like a human prism. You never really liked me, but maybe we can mend this schism. Take off the woolen gloves, and soon, the chill will turn to heat. My dancing might be wild, but my smile may just have you beat.

Watch him pretend to be cunning like a fox, or listen to him howl like he's trying to be a wolf. I have no respect for a man who acts more like a rabid animal than a composed civilian. I have no respect for a man who drinks from the gutter and snarls at women who don't respond to his whistles. He doesn't have enough breath left in his body to blow down a straw house, but that's due to all the years he's smoked his brains out.