The Rich Do Not Queue

20 the minnesota review G.S. Sharat Chandra The Rich Do Not Queue At the Metro, the rich do not queue for seats but watch the pavement turn with heat. A beggar rattles his tin, claims the goddess of crumbs is hiding inside the cool foyer. The last ant crawls with the last spilled grain of the street. The young girl who sells tickets wears white like a nurse or angel who glows in mirrored hallways, she piles the money neatly in a drawer, fives, tens, twenties, the stacks grow higher 'Hey tin cup, say a prayer!' The rich ease into their softened seats, outside, monsoon thunders, three children to feed the beggar screams he's not seaworthy, braving the storm pariah dogs sunk to their ribs have heard the story. ...