Tax Poem
Tax Poem Some bum accosted me on the street; “Spare change, nephew? I need a new hat.” He held his stovepipe hat out upside down; it was colored blue, white and red spangled with stripes and stars, battered, worn, and slightly askew. “Sam,” I said, for it was none other, “You don’t look too well. What’s wrong?” “You don’t want to hear my life story - “ he muttered, “- that’s true - “ I agree...