I FELT DIRTY

i saw him on an urban street.
he was a good looking, young man.
he was in his mid-thirties,
dirty and disheveled...
pushing a cart with what I imagined,
were all his earthly belongings.
he had a raggedy beard, and long hair.
he looked fit enough.
maybe he was an ex-soldier,
who fought in one of our desrt wars.
he wore a shirt that said "Beantown".
yeah, i was in Boston.
i filmed him with my camcorder.
i felt invasive.
he caught me in the act,
and angrily peered at me.
i zoomed in with the Carl Ziess lens.
then i quickly pretended not to see him.
i played that it had all been a grave mistake.
but he knew otherwise.
my friend, who was across the street,
retrieving an expensive watch from a jewelry shop,
came back to his air-conditioned car.
it was hot and humid that day in Boston.
he asked me: "what are you doing?"
i told him i was stealing a soul...
shooting video tape on some homeless guy,
for my personal enjoyment.
i wondered, if i offered the guy ten bucks,
if he would tell me his story...
his real life story.
maybe I could film it.
he would be art.
sure.
my friend told me to go for it.
"give it a try, you have nothing to lose."
so, i lowered the power window,
and felt a blast of hot air hit me in the face.
i yelled out to the homeless man,
"hey buddy, I have ten bucks for you,
if you want to tell me your story,
and let me put you on film."
he looked at me with disgust,
shook his head negatively,
and walked away mumbling to himself.
in that frozen moment in time,
i realized what I had done.
i felt dirty.