A coat, a hat, a pair of trousers,
Shoes, and socks, and underwear,
An umbrella hanging from his arm,
Aside a bag from Tupperware.
A wallet containing two quarters,
Thirteen nickels and a dime,
Twenty three dollars, in different notes,
A thousand yin from better times.
The man was an american,
He’d always lived in the country,
He loved the state of politics,
As this was a democracy.
But in the bag from tupperware;
A bomb, A gun and a knife,
A strangest assortment of random things,
For the last day of his life.