Why does he keep saying that?
He's talking to himself
In the back of the bus
But at least he's speaking English
At least he's not foaming at the mouth
At least he's not wearing a bra
But he doesn't belong here.
He isn't one of us.
He eats out of garbage cans.One last rubber dollar would get me
From the island of Alameda
To the BART station in Berkeley.
Who would take that ride?
Why would I make that pledge?
I am a homeless person.
Nothing means anything to me
Any more. I've about had it.
I'm breaking down.
You can take your well-greased
Monkey dollar and build
Another church or something.
I was born in America.
At least I thought that's what they said.
I was right there at the Post Office,
In 1944. I saw the American flag
How could I ask for anything more?
I have always been exactly what
You wanted me to be.
I give up my identity
And take on the one you give me.
When you look at me,
You catch your breath and look away.
You see menace
But it is not mine.
I have no place to live.
They have taken the midnight
Out of my thirst. Now I'm just thirsty.
Thirsty for an orange with no peelings.
I want it all stripped away.
I have one last tinfoil dollar.
Now you can torture me.
I am the richest man in Oakland
Up to my knees in water
In Jack London Square at 4 a.m.
Sinking
And here come the cops.
STREET SPIRIT
1515 Webster St,#303
Oakland, CA 94612Phone: (510) 238-8080, ext. 303
email: spirit@afsc.org
©
2002-2006 STREET SPIRIT. All rights reserved. -
Published by American Friends Service Committee
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