Golden Horseshoe

They were everywhere this weekend, on the sidewalk, on the
restaurant table when I sat down, on the curb edge, in the middle of
the ped-xing in the intersection.

Most people defer from being seen picking them up - a slightly
common or poor thing to be seen doing - picking something up off a
city street surface where the debris, gum, butts of the day end up.

Socially not the most attractive thing to do.

Most see that coppery disk, sometimes silver, and struggle against all
their bone twisting compulsions to bend down and pick it up.
They would be noticed.
City people.
Never had a problem myself.
Every time I do it's finding a golden hoarse shoe up your ass.
That's what we all know, that's what we recognize when we see them
laying around.

We know they have come off someone else's armour. Someone else
who has ended up here for one reason or another.

Watching other people I can't say I have been present and seen
many others stumble across one and pick it up for all to see.

An embarrassing tense moment.

Struck by glitter and it's cry as a crow - those apparent collectors of
shiny things.
Never found them travelling in Europe or the Middle East, only
occasionally in the States.
Maybe people are more careful with their money, although not in
consumer America.

"Yuk" you hear the lady behind you sneer to her bouffant friend, "did
you see that he picked it up off the street, you never know where it's
been". I got a good idea lady and it's worth a Golden Horseshoe up
my ass and I can use all of those I can get right now.




LITERATURE