Names misspelled, assumptions
triggered before the facts.
Folded cot or makeshift bed,
lunchpail oozing with suggestive
smells. Unreadable map of origins
beneath veiled eyes, slight bow
to obviate the need to offer up
the callused palm. Stations lined
with wayfarers: quiet under a row
of clocks ticking out world time,
clothing the same shade as boxes
at their feet, secured with twine.