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May 29
I say hanging from the hinge
of homelessness is the worst
sort of terror- try it (you
dipped your toes in once)
You say well everyone
has a door to open, to close
to keep the world at bay
(how quaint) I say
you have never been
without keys or a bed
or any old piece of floor
to rest your head
hmmph, well,
there was that time
you slept in a fountain
and all of Italy was yours
a plate to eat and yeah
you woke up wet and
sopping but you didn't
notice the rainbow
at your feet (did
you?) and
mother could always
find you and you could
always find her- at the end
of a Western Union while
your belly grumbled
for more screamed
for that sense of
entitlement YOU
REMIND ME OF A
BABY whining for
a new and clean place
to ****, white and full
of plenty but for
the one time you
rubbed shoulders
with reality, when
you ended up in a
decaying heap
you spent your short
life learning to skip
to throw a blind eye
to close your ears and
your nose when mother's
grasp let go for that one
terrifying moment
what did it feel like,
that slip into the gutter
of humanity's woes?
smells a lot like ****
(don't it?)
Jennifer Beetz
Written by
Jennifer Beetz  55/F/USA
(55/F/USA)   
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