He stands alone on the corner

of North Broadway and Avenue 21.

He accepts the grit and grime

of Los Angeles’ embrace.

He stands oblivious

to the global pandemic and human panic.

He stands dressed in layers of clothes

drenched in soot, blackened by years of isolation.

He stands alone

as drivers pass him by.

He’s immune to a dropping stock market.

Immune to man’s stupendous stupidity and selfishness.

He reacts to nothing.

He stands

while we are falling apart.