The Invisible Man by Lynn White

Invisible Man Seen in Whitehaven by Alan Cleaver from Flickr

 first published in Praxis, November 2019

There was a large handwritten sign
‘Invisible man - naked and destitute’
I could see where he was standing
he was wearing shoes
naked except for his shoes.
In front of him was a cardboard box.
It was almost full.
not only with coins
but also an apple,
a woolly hat,
a sandwich,
a cup of coffee.
A cup of coffee!
The rest could wait,
but the coffee was slowly cooling.
Perhaps he’d fallen asleep.
I stretched out a hand 
to wake him
but it met no flesh.
How strange.
It must be
that he was only there in spirit.
Do spirits drink coffee?
I shall soon find out.

The Difference between a Homeless Man and Studying Poetry at School by John Grey

Homeless by Psyberartist from Flickr

You’re not Walt Whitman,
just some homeless guy 
who scours trash barrels for sustenance
and sleeps under a bridge.

As long and white as it is,
your beard grows 
for lack of a razor 
and your hair’s so tousled
because it never sees a comb.

As much as you wander
the river bank by day,
the park at night,
you don’t respond 
to what’s around you,
merely body-jerk, mumble,
from the faulty wiring 
in your brain.

Yes, your eyes are 
heavy enough to pass
for the bard of Camden’s
and, stick a broad band hat 
on your head,
you could pose for 
a Whitman house-tour brochure. 

But your art 
is blinkered and private.
Your poems are secrets
so long-kept,
you don’t remember them.
And kids laugh at you.
If you were Whitman,
they’d groan.