WHERE THE REGULAR
HOMELESS SLEEP
By the marsh, along the reeds, at the base of
the rusted fence, near the alley, underneath
the bridge, beyond the macadam lot, in the
old basement if it isn't flooded. What else
do you need to know? Something other
than reality tempting you again? Go,
take down the information you need,
write the words in the jagged notebook
the office clerk gives you, write your
name at the bottom of a list. Like wild
wrens, with all their confusion, so too
this truth will descend : they have
nowhere else to go, beneath the
eaves or underneath the
cover of trees, it
is always so.
is always so.
No comments:
Post a Comment