I, The Enabler

There were approximately 
Too many children 
Snagging candy from their pegboard perches 
Behind the backs of tired-eyed mothers 
While the childless looked on in 
Obvious disdain 
And congratulated themselves quietly 
Over their uncomplicated-by-comparison 
Lives 
And just ahead of me in line 
With three gallon jugs of wine 
And clothed in the aftermath 
Of a lost battle with color-blindness 
She stood, peering back at me 
As if to say 
"You'd be drinkin' too, if you lived where I live." 
I willed her to choose another victim 
For the inevitable conversation 
She was already preparing 
Beneath what looked to be five pounds 
Of cosmetics 
Unfortunately, the force was not with me that day 
Cause she opened that toothless mouth and whispered 
"This guy," jerking a thumb quite obviously 
Toward the bum meandering between 
Checkout lanes, pretending he 
Dropped some change, somewhere, and if only he could find it 
Maybe, he'd be on his way, or if someone 
Could pass him some 
Cause that bottle of Wild Turkey 
It ain't gonna pay 
For itself 
"This guy... 
I swear," she leaned toward me conspiratorially 
Opening her purse, pointing down at 
A pocket knife that likely hadn't been opened 
In three decades, judging from the rust 
Layered on as thick as her mascara 
"If he don't move, I'm tellin' ya, 
I'll take this here..." And she fingered that tiny knife 
"I'll take this here, sweetheart, and cut out that tongue of his 
See how well he begs for change then. 
Lordie knows I've been without a dime 
And with five kids, you're always 
Without a dime 
But you'd never catch me 
In his place." 
And I plastered a false grin 
On my face 
While studying the fire escape routes 
On a poster ten feet away 
"Scuse me Ma'am, could ya spare some change? 
I'm short a few quarters, and I've got marching orders 
To be back at the shelter by eight." 
And throughout his well-practiced speech 
Those sunken eyes never left 
The three gallon jugs 
Of wine in her cart 
"If you could find it in your hear.." 
"Well mister, I think 
You'd best be on your way 
I ain't the type a lady 
You ask for such things." 
She spouted, with that self-righteous look on her face 
And turned to me, awaiting congratulation 
On how she handled the situation 
To be honest, those few minutes spent 
Studying the fire escape routes 
Were minutes well spent, cause when 
She spun around like a woman 
Half her weight and age 
She caught me digging in my pocket 
And handing the poor guy 
Some change.