Script of Charity

For no reason that bears scrutiny

I have, on my side of the window, food – 

food you seek with “Please”, 

food I pass to you, and you say “Thank you” 

(then our smiles), and then I say, “You’re welcome.” 

The script of charity assigns your lines: 

"Please." “If it pleases you." 

“You can give or withhold. 

I hope to please you with my ‘Please’.” 

(Of course there’s no withholding – I’m here to give. 

But I can have attitude, be impatient, grouchy, rough – 

and still give lunch, feel “helping” 

and get thanked.) 

You say, “Thank you.” “I hope my gratitude means 

I can ask again tomorrow, ‘If you please.’” 

And my line, also assigned: 

“You’re welcome” says, “Yes. You can.” 

It’s the script of charity – the default of good people, 

but not innocent. 

 

Even less innocent, someone says, 

“Beggars can’t be choosers.” 

But isn’t it our choosing makes us human, 

isn’t agency our human coin? 

What? “Beggars can’t be humans”? 

One day a rabbi fed a crowd  

with food they all had hidden in their coats, 

nervous to show or share their scanty loaves. 

As it turned out (as they turned out their pockets, 

shamed by the young lad’s offer), there was enough and then some. 

I’m hungry for a miracle like that, 

where food is something that we have together,

not power passed between us through a window.