THE PLAIN

It's easy to be nice.
The little hunchback hasn't left his tent today,
Curled up he picks at his teeth with his fingernail
And his eyes drowse
From so much looking at green canvas.
In the distance a girl says no thanks
And looks down,
Maybe the little hunchback envisioned
A girl walking
On the sidewalk in town
To the workshop or the supermarket
And said she's preparing for loneliness.
So much sadness, beaches and parasols
That are lost.
But it isn't hard to be nice.
And he's certainly better than
The sterile men the tough
And bold ones who lose
The same girl
Without having met her, without having heard
What she could or
Could not say.