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Took an old bus ride
home today—there’s
no subways here—and
here’s what I
was reminded of:
The modernized surreal
street bedrooms
daily whisper many stories
of the newspaper-covered
ups and downs of life…
Indeed, these mythical
street bedrooms
hold many cold secrets
frozen in eluded hopes of time…
Here have sat and slept
royal souls of unknown fame;
their thrones seen as mere uric
stools to standers and passer-bys
oblivious to the unwritten reality:
“You Too Could Be Here!”
Yes, the new Bus Stop benches
of the socially moat-like urban streets
have truly modernized homelessness:
shaded benches reflected on the way home:-
Reflected but bent away from those
taking the transient so-called “freeway”
over the hooded hood that was once
the alley-way to what was once home:
Yes, life can be…sometimes is…
like a bench built for feline dogs;
yet, life’s bulldog is always sniffing…
Tomorrow, when the ride is repaired,
I’m taking the long ride home—stopping
by some places where I use to roam—and
talk with the left few and ask what can I can do
To trade in a bench for a house for two!
