“Poor, / tattered sparrow with his crumb.” And that’s the payoff to this poem, the metaphor for a street bum with a quarter. Or maybe it’s for the reader of this poem and its value as such.
Enemies of Enormity by David Rivard
He does go on about that pin now doesn’t he. That’s not where the trouble began. He really began to wobble at the panhandler. Really, an almost gratuitous move. But he tried to right himself. With his snappy kind of style. But there at the pin, at the crossroads of pop and hypothesis, he falls and never recovers. And pulling a thunderclap out of one’s ass doesn’t always save the day. Case in point.
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