Aren’t I Proud?

for Brian

Aren’t I proud as he walks by
aren’t I proud as I say hi
to the man whose name
I haven’t asked,
though I’ve wondered about him 
after he’s passed
The Smelly Man we’ve named him
as we see him at the store,
as we see him paused on the street,
catching his beath
dressed for cold in the heat
Silently screaming olefactory swears
Causing children to stare
Causing staff to hold open the doors
designed so well to capture the circulating air
And everybody shopping, me too, shopping, 
I politely step aside, and like the others,
casually checking each aisle,
I can feel the staff has opened wide
the main entrance doors, I hear
someone wonder if something has died
And aren’t I proud
as the Smelly Man walks by
aren’t I proud as I say hi
and look in his eye
and he says, Bless you, and he grimaces a smile
and he just walks on by, well overdressed,
stooped under his burdens, somewhere under his skin,
which doesn’t look right
And his smell, like a veil and a train along behind
Is he a widower, carrying the ghost of his bride?
Tormenting, I’m sure
Aren’t I
Aren’t I so sure as he walks by?
So sure, and so proud
as I say hi
to the Smelly Man