Tuesday, November 1, 2011


Working in any large city and even small towns, one is frequently confronted by panhandlers. Many who are down on their luck turn for solace to alcohol.  The following is based on many such confrontations with desperate, albeit creative panhandlers.


Winos should be authors
For the stories they invent
Are designed to touch the hearts of prosperous men
Their eloquence on tough luck
Is unmatched in all the world
And they’ll tell their sad story when ‘ere they can

They’ll tell you they need only
Eight more cents to buy a meal
As you reach in your pocket you know damn well
That as soon as you touch their dirty palm
With a little piece of change
They’ll go and blow it all on muscatel

They’ll ask you for direction
To a local cheap hotel
And ask for a little help to buy a bed
They’ll tell you how their pride
Is crushed to have to beg
And their wine soaked breath's enough to knock you dead

They’ll tell you of a family
Left starving in the hills
While they hitched a ride to town to find a job
Through tearful eyes they’ll tell you
That work is hard to find
And they’ll ask you for some money with a sob

Sometimes with open honesty
They’ll meet you on the street
Sayin’, “Buddy would you be a pal of mine?”
I’m down on my luck
Could you spare a little change
To help a drunk like me to buy some wine?

You’ll hear a hundred stories
From a hundred different smokes
And sad to say that most are probably true
They’ll touch your heart for sympathy
When they tell their woeful tales
If someone’s going to help, it must be you

Winos should be authors
For if they had the will to write
They could tell the whole world about their pain
If they could put their tragedy
In poetry or prose
Instead of muscatel, they’d drink champagne.