Poem # 90 Man with a box

I stopped my van on a main arterial road.
The rain was too heavy to continue. In the
rear view mirror I could see a hunched
blurred figure approaching. Under his arm
a large collapsed flat pak. He knocked on
the window.
'Have a heart friend, can I come in? it's like
Noah's flood out here'
I nodded my consent and he placed the
flat pak into the back of the van and
slipped into the cab beside me.
'Thank you, thank you, I am Lucien -
so pleased you could help- the box is
my home - but not in the rain - rain and
cardboard don't mix. Oh no! Not at all
- caught me by surprise. Lucky I found
you.
He smelled like banana stew. I gave him
an orange and a cup of coffee for a change
in diet. He seemed unaware of his
personal aroma and didn't seem to mind
it's effect on himself or any other person.
He happily explained to me, while
brushing his teeth with his index finger
why the world was out of control and
why we are all so anxious.
Uranus!
The refined green folk who inhabit
that planet don't have the technology
to build modern Sullivan derived
cities. Lucien explained that the
Uranians can build farmhouses to
delight your eyes, but high rise are
beyond them. 'But they desire them
badly do you see? Now that we've
successfully built all these high rise
the Urani are ready to take over.
They have pissed into the rain, he
explained, filling our water with a
violence and corruption inducing
drug. Within a few decades, Lucien
confided in me, earth society will
have imploded, and the cities would
be theirs. A big green party in
Centrepoint tower.
I asked Lucien where he would be
then.
He stopped rubbing his teeth for a minute
and looked me directly in the eyes.
' Back on Uranus, of course' He leaned
in close and I almost passed out from
the smell. 'I'm one of them'.
I said 'Of course you are', and opened
the door for him so he could exit
into the emerging dry weather.
After retrieving his box he turned
and gave me a broad smile.
'Been a pleasure to meet you sir!,
but I must away. I have an
appointment with the mother ship,
or the government, I forget which.
I must consult the Blackberry,
and with a salute he left me where
I was.