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A collaboration over too much coffee.
coffee and pen

15 March, 2005

Homeless

Across from Bryant Park,
at the corner of 43rd and 6th,
underneath several layers
of filth, a man, past all cares.

Alone in an altered reality,
his possessions in a cart,
he shuffles back and forth,
unheard, shoving his net worth.

Skirting his noisome presence,
deaf to empty threats,
I walk past, at a steady pace,
indifference masks my face.

A mask that carefully conceals,
terror at this Russian roulette:
Fleeting fortunes, sighs of relief,
and cart-borne lifetimes of grief.

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5 Comments:

Blogger Pincushion said...

'terror at this Russian roulette:'
'and cart-borne lifetimes of grief.'

These two lines jumped out at me! The pathos and sense of helplessness brought out poignantly.
Lovely piece :)

15 March, 2005 21:30  
Blogger SPECKLED_BAND said...

Pincushion said it for me too! "Cart-borne lifetimes of grief" - VERY evocative!

16 March, 2005 00:57  
Blogger livinghigh said...

hmmm... a very TRUE piece. A cultivated 'get thee behind me', borne out of terrifying fear of becoming something like dat. nice piece. ;-)

16 March, 2005 15:25  
Blogger scribe said...

You're getting to me girl! Style and substance together - what else can one ask for? Also, at an emotional level - have donned that mask too often, however reluctantly - don't want to deal with those lifetimes of grief.

17 March, 2005 00:29  
Blogger Praneeta Paradkar said...

powerful imagery...

19 March, 2005 18:49  

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