He sits, leaning against the wall,
cup in a hand resting on a post,
the other hand on his knee
or gesturing as he speaks.
Passersby intently ignore him.
A prophet dishonored in his own inner desert,
quietly exhorting, denying, critiquing
the invisible multitude within.

He rests a muffin on his knee,
picks it up, examines it,
displays it to the others within
for their approval, seeks their indulgence.
They grant his boon and he dines,
an honored guest.