After the bombs, the riots, the protests, and all the rest of the excitement finally subside, all that will remain will be rats, roaches, and ruin. That, and those winos on the corner. Still trying to scrape together enough for a bottle – even though the liquor stores’s gone. When the shakes from detox subsideContinue reading “A New World Will Rise”
Tag Archives: homeless
Witness
There is always, in every dive and bus bench and street corner and bar-stool and bank line-up some shifty gent with cracking skin, thick glasses, scars or scabs, who mutters curses under his breath to no one, seemingly, but me. I am the chosen one who soaks up the confessions of the lonely and lostContinue reading “Witness”
Perch
Perch adjusts the 50″ flat screen in his grasp, scared paranoid above anything else of allowing it to touch the sidewalk. The way they make these things now, they’re almost designed to shatter. His mind babbles, groans, mutters.
acanthus road
saw a man asleep on a white couch parked under a sign that proclaimed the street Acanthus Road the name seemed lofty dignified enough to remove any shame and give the man leave to sleep and to dream and be more that what I perceived
finding a home in London
diary entry on an early Sunday morning from the belly button of the old country everyone here drinks too much and smokes too much and once again I feel 2 years out of touch with the popular trends I see at least one fox a night now, gone are the raccoons I once knew neverContinue reading “finding a home in London”
arriving at the rainbow gathering
nearing the beach at Sombreo for the first time lit on magic mushrooms, the hour approaches dawn-break my Quebecois companion leads the way in the quiet twilight we stumble through the dark forest trail trees enormous like in fairy tales mystic purple fog drifting in from the ocean we near the tree-line sound of wavesContinue reading “arriving at the rainbow gathering”
the last book readers
it is a sad day when the last people around who read books and use libraries are the homeless the last people around who still lost themselves in weather-beaten paperbacks with yellowed pages you can buy a copy for only a penny and sometimes it’s enough to get them through one more day
choose your life
given all this life and given choice choose nothing choose everything choose a slab of beach sand choose making sex sounds in the forest choose the greatest tree of all time choose your berries choose life
life in the trees
swinging high in the trees if your heart’s desire was on a branch would you reach out and pluck it if I swing too far and miss it I wonder if I’ll land in softness into the soft arms of my heart’s true love
my home on the beach
the ticking of a clock is simply ocean waves licking shore eagle cries and heron calls are the early morning alarms wind and shade sun and moon lonely canoe adrift in the harbour my tiny camp unseen by the world everything good and right as it should be everyone still dreaming of a dream
