by Atoc Malou
Image: Lucinda Davies
Have you seen the creatures
sitting cross-legged behind the alleyway dumpster?
they twiddle their thumbs.
Their mouths hang open as they wait
for conversation or ridicule
depending on who meets them.
Do you avoid them?
Does the stench of open wounds faze you?
Or have you learned to love the yellow pus
between their fingers?
They’re friendly, you know.
Just introduce yourself and wait for their name.
They’ve got stories, you know?
The kind that make you sit beside them,
twiddling your fingers
listening for more.