The Homeless of the City

At 7 AM the homeless shelter
spits people out like,
some great phallus
or like a bad cough.

The sky drips
and the sun squints
and ghosts move
through the morning fog.

A people set apart
like shadows
that you wouldn't notice
until they speak to you...
asking for spare change.

Maybe you turn
or maybe you move
along faster - most of the time
they're invisible.