get dirty
she said to get dirty you needed to find life the part of it that no one looked at,
the people overlooked.
she said to get lost in the city,
like she did it every weekend whenever she got bored.
it made me regret ever moving back to the country.
she said get lost in the poorest part of the city the part that can't afford to clean its self.
but,
it's different here, in the terracotta clay.
poor is not eccentric like it is in the city.
we have families of three squatting week after week.
same corner, different sign.
the VA's downtown, the legless wonders pushNpull themselves
down the streets early morns.
there before 7,
never miss a beat.
we've got grandpa's and families,
not crackheads and whores.
depressing is the mind that i find myself reliving.
someone said, 'you just had to learn how to turn your head, and look at the ground. if they can't see your eyes, they don't know they're winning."
i hate him for that.
we could become so easily senseless over some1.
days seemed different when the homeless man sing his wows outside my window.
then he was funny, then i was amused.
he might have been a painter, or a daddy far from home.
i'll never know.
it took the terracotta color of the dirt outside my world to bring me back to realize the world is not my pep show.
she said, "a brilliant man asked me if i wanted a great poem for a
dollar?"
so i took two.
she said to get dirty you needed to find life the part of it that no one looked at,
the people overlooked.
she said to get lost in the city,
like she did it every weekend whenever she got bored.
it made me regret ever moving back to the country.
she said get lost in the poorest part of the city the part that can't afford to clean its self.
but,
it's different here, in the terracotta clay.
poor is not eccentric like it is in the city.
we have families of three squatting week after week.
same corner, different sign.
the VA's downtown, the legless wonders pushNpull themselves
down the streets early morns.
there before 7,
never miss a beat.
we've got grandpa's and families,
not crackheads and whores.
depressing is the mind that i find myself reliving.
someone said, 'you just had to learn how to turn your head, and look at the ground. if they can't see your eyes, they don't know they're winning."
i hate him for that.
we could become so easily senseless over some1.
days seemed different when the homeless man sing his wows outside my window.
then he was funny, then i was amused.
he might have been a painter, or a daddy far from home.
i'll never know.
it took the terracotta color of the dirt outside my world to bring me back to realize the world is not my pep show.
she said, "a brilliant man asked me if i wanted a great poem for a
dollar?"
so i took two.
VIEW 5 of 5 COMMENTS
riottsiren:
i guess i cheatedif searching the internet counts. but i was interested enough to look so that should count for something. never been to africa, but its on my list of things to do. what were you there for?
riottsiren:
thanks ivyseer. i wrote that after an email my friend sent to me. she lives in the city, and rides the bus to work. she's always coming up with the best stuff to write about because of it. she just happen to inspire me that day.