Hope Vilsick-Greenwell
 
 
 
 
 

Homeless in America: The 1990's

 

I. A Homeless Sister Speaks
 

Beneath boojum trees,
Tucson's tallest two,
I sit a poison eater.
No not peyote buttons
no potion nor illegal
substance for me. Let
sure comforting cheap
kill me softly; & do-
nut dunking do me in,
slow like, in inches.

Suicide!....Genocide!
Just die happy in the
cheapening comfort of
America: U.S.A. where
even homeless  people
can dress quite well,
can surely stay alive
on ubiquitous,  stale
doughnuts and coffee.
 
 
 
 

II. Life Lessons

 Being homeless is a full time job.
           --an anonymous homeless person
 
 

 Rather like soap-on-a-rope
 so surreptitiously used up
 life lived lessons learned
 from our  homeless sisters
 brothers who say much with
 so little sparse words and
 sparser "stuff" of reality:

"Always pick a penny up ne-
 ver mind tails side up and
 heads is better but not to
 worry just so you go walk-
 ing along with people what
 your luck is  yours always
 find you each & every day
 you just can't run from it
 I say just don't bother it.

 Always hunker down so they
 don't notice you  that low
 they don't hardly look now
 and then when they do they
 give you guilty money they
 can't stand to be reminded
 can't comprehend  that you
 exist right here  in their
 midst too damned close for
 comfort both theirs & ours.

 Always know the difference
 between wants and needs so
 here is how it goes ready?
 wants's everythang you all
 don't need  and needs's so
 easy these here clothes on
 ma back an ifin yer luckie
 one decent pair o' walkin'
 shoes and well it's really
 good ta have an overcoat &
 an extry set a clothes fer
 whan ya git wet that's all."