"I'm a travelling
salesman," he said, with
his eyes wide closed
and his mouth hanging
open.

I hadn't asked him
what he did, merely
asked him to expound
his view of the Universe.

"You see, the way
I see it..."

Hmmm... he went
on...

"You know, we all have
something to sell
and no-one
to buy"

Maybe I was his first pitch.

"Travel travel, things to buy,
travel travel, over"

I knew what he was saying,
though I knew nothing of his
words. It was deep and
true- but I'd
heard it all before
and I had
my understandings.

I was interested
in exchanging signposts,
but his rhetoric
was full of
diversions.

I wondered where he
would take us.

"Go on," I said.

"Like movement and
passing..."

(a piece of food dripped
out the side of his
mouth
and he looked down
at it
as though
the camera zoomed in
simultaneously
on him
and on his sadness.
There it was,
this small large piece of food,
that shattered his truth steadily)

There was nothing left to say.
He had had his chance
and I had seen the fragility
of human life and theory.