"rents" poems
an average human creature should such a mythical exist
in a lifetime will celebrate about 2,200,000,000 heartbeats,
billions of heartbeats per minute (I prefer moment)
but like everything so essence human there are
those very few heartbeat moments,
the ten or twenty maybe forty total in a lifetime
that you total truly remember,
recalling the cream and sauce,
swell and the hell,
of the pounding so slow so hard,
each one a volcano of
a moment until that day
you don't remember-anything
when she said yes and you're shaking and beating in a
honky-tonk rhythm cause you were heart undressed unsure
and truly afraid of a rejection that makes a heart stoppage
disallowing visions, to be exponentially happy future imagined
you're feeling your heartbeat
in your knees going weak,
when the doctor says:
congratulations healthy swell
and/or
some years later,
I'm so so truly sorry, hell
when they hand you a long handle shovel no instructions needed and that scoop of earth weighs two tons and the sound of slow reverb in your head hurts like hell and you lack the strength to move and they move you aside quiet gentle like
but inside the temple of the two headed hydra-heart,
it's the rock and roll of slo mo, the violin crying, the drumming of
heavy metal chords plucked so slowly, it's you froze screaming
a billionaire of heartbeats you are,
but only ten or twenty maybe forty total in a lifetime
you total truly remember with the perfect clarity and
forever renders into your own unique orchestral symphony,
your true net worth, the stripes you wear
upon your shoulders skin,
the tune when you hear it and melts you into rigidity
you fall to your knees wherever you are,
that is where you will find me,
just listen for the cars horns blaring
cursing the man lying in the street, re-listening to
ten or twenty maybe forty heartbeats total in a lifetime
you alone total truly that concert set recall and
the win-loss record inherent, inhiment,
in both of them, tears and the rents, all there in the tunes,
of forty beatings you took,
somehow it feels like here is, there was,
the answers to
where is shelter for the heart,
the answers that have gone and come and gone and someone says,
I don't feel a pulse
Oct 25, 2017
Oct 25, 2017 at 2:55 PM UTC
Women are always saying, why are there no good men out there anymore?
I say there are plenty of good men out there.
Good men with great qualities.
Might not look like Brad Pitt but strong enough to never quit.
You can't wait for a George Clooney you may go ******
You chose to go out on a date with that handsome man.
Who drives the fancy car and wears that fancy watch.
That handsome man wined you and dined you.
Took you back to his place where you ended up staying late.
You left in the early morning hour, heading home for a shower.
A few days have gone by, that handsome man never calls.
You're feeling sad and rejected, thats what handsome men do.
A good man would not have rejected you.
A good man who drives an old pickup truck.
Who worries when the rents do.
A good man working to make ends meet would sweep you off your feet.
Good men aren't hard to find.
Just open your eyes and you just might find.
That there are a few good men out there.
Oct 19, 2015
Oct 19, 2015 at 9:13 PM UTC
i like to listen to bobby womack
sing "fly me to the moon"
while thinking of jeff's blue origin rocketship
exploding in the air
all his pride
crashing down in pieces
recorded for the whole world to see
because i have walked
unhappily down the streets
of soulless south lake union
where clueless people walk by
dumbly raising rents
congesting traffic
thinking they are off to change the world
crying about peter dinklage
yellowfacing herve villechaize,
their stupidity knows no bounds
always hard at work in south lake union
producing nothing that won't be obsolete
the second it is completed
purposely designed to make our lives unaffordable
**** jeff and all his tech bro henchmen
who do nothing but steal the sun from the poor
Oct 21, 2018
Oct 21, 2018 at 1:57 AM UTC
there won't be many shrouded gowns
or tears or tales to tell
above a bed with tiny frowns
to watch my carcass swell
perhaps a friend or cousin
no colleagues from past tense
i'd be shocked to see a dozen
if i don't outlast the 'rents
don't go too far out of way
or bring a spot of gin
just to watch my bones decay
and sorrow o'er my skin
kiss my head or curse or bawl
i won't know whose farewell
staring at a furnace wall
while looking up from hell
for now i'm lying here to show her
i can’t bear without your face
who knows if you'll need closure
i'll be dressed for just in case
i’d have lived for you but only
let's not talk about regrets
i'll wish you'd never known me
but hate to think you might forget
May 15, 2022
May 15, 2022 at 2:31 PM UTC
What is it I'm here for?
I swear I stay in my feels
Yeah I **** up man
But come on what's the deal
I work really hard, &
I tell uto keep it real.
But all these mother ******* out for positivity to steal.
I Keep my head high or something like that...
Hating *** ******* still tryna tilt it back.
I don't give a **** about about what everyone has to say..
I'm out here living and guess what my rents still gonna get paid.
You fake ******* I'll slay...
Looking for a man to pay your way.
I don't need **** from any of you sheep *** *******
I'm a wolf, lead the pack, quick attack.. you need stitches.
You can't keep up with me
At least not mentally
All you haters do is talk **** all day but could you really step it G?
Ha. That I'd like to see.
I don't know if it's just me..
But for once everyone
Just leave me be.
Feb 3, 2017
Feb 3, 2017 at 4:46 AM UTC
Companies have established low wages
I haven’t seen anything like this since my ages
Hourly rates are at an all time low
The economy with no acceleration is moving ever so slow
Rents are so high
People are wondering if they will ever survive
It’s like a sting from a beehive
However, the word Permanent is now called Temp
The cost of living simply went
Yet how are people suppose to survive
A new wave with good news has come to shore
It’s called “Entrepreneur” for you to explore
People need a new plan being their own Entrepreneur
But it takes time to establish
Once your Entrepreneur business is up and running
Now you will need a Dynamic Advertising Campaign that will be stunning
People need to know who you are with your business
Don’t forget the business cards
Once again, it takes time in getting the business on its way
But don’t stall nor delay
Kiss the Corporate world goodbye
Now give Entrepreneur a try
Corporate compensation low
Today it is Entrepreneur being the flow
Corporate world continues too have their own agenda
Welcome to Entrepreneur for you to enter
So worry no more
Be your own Boss for sure
Entrepreneur is knocking for you to explore
If Entrepreneur was something you always wanted to do, don’t put off and just pursue
Corporate world salaries just don’t fit
It’s time for a Corporate quit and let Entrepreneur be it.
Jun 2, 2018
Jun 2, 2018 at 11:44 AM UTC
Starving artist,
Hungry and cold,
Dive in a fountain
Of wishes and gold
Counts fifteen bucks
In quarters and cents
Steals wishers' lucks
To pay for her rents
But she hopes for the best
That all of those wishes
Were already blessed
And that marauder of dreams,
of wishes, of love,
She paid back in gleams
Silver spilling from glove
And those wishers?
Well, they had their fortunes
of hearts reunited
of kisses goodnight
of beds warm and cozy
and dreams taken flight
All but a handful
Remained in her pocket,
and never again saw the sun
Oct 9, 2012
Oct 9, 2012 at 1:50 AM UTC
This plot of ground
facing the waters of this inlet
is dedicated to the living presence of
Emily Dickinson Wellcome
who was born in England; married;
lost her husband and with
her five year old son
sailed for New York in a two-master;
was driven to the Azores;
ran adrift on Fire Island shoal,
met her second husband
in a Brooklyn boarding house,
went with him to Puerto Rico
bore three more children, lost
her second husband, lived hard
for eight years in St. Thomas,
Puerto Rico, San Domingo, followed
the oldest son to New York,
lost her daughter, lost her “baby,”
seized the two boys of
the oldest son by the second marriage
mothered them—they being
motherless—fought for them
against the other grandmother
and the aunts, brought them here
summer after summer, defended
herself here against thieves,
storms, sun, fire,
against flies, against girls
that came smelling about, against
drought, against weeds, storm-tides,
neighbors, weasels that stole her chickens,
against the weakness of her own hands,
against the growing strength of
the boys, against wind, against
the stones, against trespassers,
against rents, against her own mind.
She grubbed this earth with her own hands,
domineered over this grass plot,
blackguarded her oldest son
into buying it, lived here fifteen years,
attained a final loneliness and—
If you can bring nothing to this place
but your carcass, keep out.
2.4k
Do we, as a people, deserve to be critised?
Have we as a nation become so desensitised
to the plight of those among us who are marginalised?
Do we care nothing for the less well off, the disenfranchised?
Rents and cost of living as high as we have ever known,
numbers on the breadline and homeless have consistently grown,
so many suicides because people feel so desperate and alone,
how can we stand by and let this happen to so many of our own?
So many families torn apart and utterly devastated,
Far too many of our young people reluctantly emigrated,
People losing their homes, heartbroken and humiliated,
There is not much about this country now to be celebrated!
It’s true that during the recession most people lost a lot
But was it the booming economy that really started the rot?
Did we start judging each other by how much each had got?
Was compassion for our fellow man something we forgot?
Though going through hard times we still give much to charity
many services only possible because people work voluntarily
but the government rub their hands together with unashamed glee
Are they right to think our actions absolve them of all responsibility?
Though all of us are struggling, each with so much on our plate
Should we not come together, do something before it is too late?
Surely the plight of these our people should prompt a national debate?
to ensure our government meets the needs of every last citizen of our state.
The frightening thing is, it could so easily be you or I
left unemployed or homeless, or barely scraping by
we cannot just dismiss it, the signs are all there
and if the present is anything to go by, will anybody care?
May 7, 2015
May 7, 2015 at 3:54 AM UTC
Now,
We are mellow.
Having spent the evening exploring the threads of friendship.
That had come adrift of warp, weft and weave.
Time and distance had
silks, snag-tagged-torn,
on the bustling-busy,
hectic-hustling of work
and family.
Teasing-taunt,
needle-gnawing,
small, gap-rip-rents
in the snug comforter
that is... the wonder of us.
Us, so many secrets woven. So many, nights of tissues and sobbing tears.
Darning in daring exploits. Cutting away knotted,
fear-angry-scream-fighting feuds.
Cutting work, for days of delight and nights of desperate yearning.
We used anything at hand, rough wools, pieces of string and twines.
To weave a blanket,
to hide us from life's storms.
We were,
so young, so strong, recklessly-brash,
stupidly-joyous
and braveheart-fools.
And now, time and age,
has softened our work. Felted and fuse-melded,
the fibres into a beautiful entity.
That we store-save in the heart's cupboard,
of special and precious things.
It is an heirloom of sorts.
We bring it out,with occasional, humble-grace,
to be dandled and stroked with reverence.
Caressed and cossetted are our memories held within the abstract weave.
We are the dwindling
of a youthful exuberance
flung-thrown-heaved
to the wild winds.
So now, we are grateful to be curator-custodians of the retrospective nature
as we augment-append
and reiterate-repair.
A new thread here,
now,
embellish-embroider,embed
and tatt-stitch.
My son and your twin girls, squeezed, splashing
into your tiny bathtub
big-grin-giggling in the gurgling water.
Our future, here and now,
is the brightest of silks,
Our past, mellow and yielding in,
the luminent opulence,
angelically-asleep in,
the other room.
May 31, 2014
May 31, 2014 at 6:30 AM UTC
#
"They've outlawed it, you know.."
"Outlawed what, Sweetie"
***"The Unknowable--
that which cannot be defined
or easily explained away..
That which cannot reduced, down
in to something more palatable;
Or maybe diluted-down
in to that which one could drink
..without it bringing some form
of dis- comfort"***
She is looking down;
Woven into her hair.. all things
edelweiss, suddenly begin
their wilt
..and all along the waterway
are those coming towards her
to smother
.
You will hold on, my Beautiful
*(or maybe even turn to face
for the first time, with loaded gun)*
--But Beautiful girl was never meant
to go loaded
*(..And her beloved Rooster Cogburn said
that she's no bigger than a corn nubbin)*
My beautiful girl
locks and loads, anyways--
Because the Mason-jars
she was forced to pour it all in to,
were never made big enough
to contain it.
There's a small stall at the swap-meet..
on Thursday and Saturday mornings,
she rents a space there
Her wares, true liquid Gold..
*(when a jar becomes sold
no hidden-thing will be needed
to sustain it)*
. . . . .
Quiet hearts are never meant
to reveal themselves
Some words (in this world)
were never meant to be spoken
You'll see now, beautiful Angel--
that this Rare-Jeweled heart of yours
is not the only-one,
perpetually Broken
Some gifts, the world
may never be ready for.
Lip-Kissed,
may I be the one
to help get that
un-ready World, ready--
*(so very well fed
yet still;
so very slowly, burning)*
Some beautiful Heartbeats
are so very much worth dying for
***... And I, myself ;
I am turning..***
#
Sep 27, 2023
Sep 27, 2023 at 2:17 PM UTC
I waited 8 periods, 7 hours, in between searching for you, running around the corridors,
Like a psychosis affected patient running trying to find reality through delusions,
But "planet", ironically you are my delusion, miles away from the brutal reality.
My excuses to see you were drying up; sprinting to the top floor that maybe you‘ll come across,
Ecstatic like a 5 year old kid, when his rents buy him a toy helicopter,
Disappointed like the poor kid as his helicopter crashed on the first day itself.
You’re nerdy, the only guy studying java and oracle with interest, enticing me with your mint and cedar scent,
This infatuation is eating my heart up, slowly and slowly, like cancer
I came today only to see you, desperately clinging to the belief that maybe you’ll come to see me too.
But I was left alone, with the burning sun as my only companion.
I woke up hours early, straightening my hair till my hair were singed, applying mascara till my eyes burned.
I fancied, that possibly you might think of me too, day dream of me too,
but darling curse me for being a hopeless teen, as its getting me nowhere.
Everyone keeps telling me its never going to happen, I’m a junior and you a sophomore
& when your azure lids never glance my way, my face turns ashen, even during the Indian summer.
And who am I to even try to fight with the bitter truth,
for it’s always destroying our little fragile hearts and drowning them in acid and absinth
It was so silly of me to even give into these treacherous day dreams, to even let my pride escape.
I was absurd enough to even like you, knowing even then, that I will never be able to solve this Rubik cube.
May 21, 2013
May 21, 2013 at 6:37 AM UTC
before i left seattle, and long before i made the mistake of returning,
i was babysitting a fish in a fishbowl,
for my brother's kids.
the water in the bowl was cloudy,
unclear, ***** because of the fish
so of course the fish died,
the bowl just sat on the counter after the fish died
but before my brother's kids came back from california
anyhow, moving back here was a mistake.
the cost of living here is ridiculous,
there is no room to be a middle class person here
only a little kid who works at amazon
whose mom found him his job.
these little kids work for amazon,
their moms type out cover letters and resumes
so their kids can get jobs at amazon
i am looking for a new job because i can't afford to keep the job i have now,
the little kids who work for amazon have it pretty good though,
they can bring their dogs to work with them
they can jack up the rents, no problem
mom is always looking out for them like that
tonight i applied for a job at amazon
i typed in my first name to submit my application
"jeffbezosisacunt", i wrote a quick cover letter
telling them i was qualified for the job because
my mom didn't have to type out my cover letters for me
and because i had a dog that hadn't been trained yet
that i could take to work with me, then i attached a pdf file of a quick reference guide for aol 9.0 as my resume
it felt good
but not for long and not good enough
mark zuckerberg makes me sick too,
i can just see him running for president one day,
needing a good slapping
the little **** has never known any form of adversity
so he just keeps on being a little ****
he has a lot in common with kim jong un
when i first moved back here, there were all these orange and white umbrellas every morning. those orange and white umbrellas had already taken over.
Apr 19, 2016
Apr 19, 2016 at 3:00 AM UTC
it costs a dollar twenty five for the drier that leaves your clothes still damp
but the lemons on the tree are perfectly ripe
and the wind chime sounds like
namaste.
though the clouds are thinning
it’s just cool enough for sneakers
and warm enough for tank tops.
gram is in the basement
dad is at the liquor store
and mi madrastra es talking with
the man who rents the apartment upstairs
exchanging recipes
and munching on chicharrones.
today
I live in the Santa Clara slums
and
feel as at home as I did
in the rain.
Apr 17, 2011
Apr 17, 2011 at 4:47 PM UTC
Can I just forget this year
That started off so fine
I just hope that by next year
I'll have a better time
With all the fighting on the news
In Damascan streets
Makes me wonder how we can
Reject the survivors we meet
Between Brexit and the election
We keep on splitting apart
And all of the hateful ones
Feel free to threaten our hearts
Zika rode in behind ebola
Two crisies on end
All of the panic caused by it
Hardly helps people make amends
The Olympics were pretty great
But still pretty spotty
With bacterial bays, alge filled pools
And the antics of Ryan Lochtie
The globe's heat keeps rising on
Wreaking havoc on our climate
With polar ice melting, it grates
That people don't get science
My favorite sci fi heroes died
Those people who inspired
Those who gave us so much hope
Just suddenly expired
The local subway's been a mess:
It keeps catching on fire
After three times, it just seems
That we can't fix a wire
My brain seems to be getting worse
At being normal or sane
Somedays I just want to run
And dissolve into the rain
I ended my relationship
Of over a year
And lost touch with some friends
Whom I once held so dear
School just keeps getting harder
(Not too shocking to find)
But my Girl Scout and school projects
Might just fry my mind
My mom and I are getting to
A rough patch in our ways
And hiding my intrests from my 'rents
Takes so much of my days
My social circle only gets
Harder and harder to track
And my family's stories sound like soaps
Even though we have each other's backs
So can I just forget this year
Make it all fade away
Can I just go back to sleep
And face '16 another day
So can I just forget this year
Just please make it all end
And maybe in 2017
I'll be able to start again
Dec 28, 2016
Dec 28, 2016 at 10:25 PM UTC
Rising rents
Doesn’t seem to care
Who they affect
The City could care less
The mayor giving
Tax breaks
Playing high stakes
With peoples lives
The landlord
Controlling the soundboard
With rent control
Now seen as a nuisance
No one used to want to live here
But now they do
They say there is not enough housing
To fit they appetites
Well don’t be so hungry
Don’t be so greedy
Share a space
Don’t displace
Contemplate actions
Homeless shelters
Next to highrises
Single occupant
Apartments
Could fill ten beds
Instead of one head
Even Jack gets kicked out
The bar that supplies the ghost
Is a poetic footnote
To the money hungry
Seeing dollars
Instead of history
The nations remaining
Black bookstore
Painted The Color Purple
Now shut down
By monied clowns
Stating their needs for millions
Over millions who need
Books
Culture
Life
Instead of
****** glossed over history
Without a shred of the past
Marcus Books
Where Malcolm, Ali, Davis
Gathered
Now lost
To the highest bidder
People come
People go
But the erosion of history
Is a swift reality
Of the gentrification
Of The City
Dec 12, 2014
Dec 12, 2014 at 1:36 PM UTC
mom says we should buy an axe.
she shapes her gum into a moon,
craters and canines and molars,
like a fake suicide on national tv,
the passing of the torch,
the running of the bulls,
the macy’s day parade.
ashtrays don’t lie, but ashes do,
they’ve got their canines and molars
and tongues tuned to calamity,
slick as sunsets as they chop away.
and this fortnight is something you can read,
go ahead, turn the pages,
one to fourteen and you’re caught unaware,
what the **** were you doing,
counting casualties, coming closer to the yellow sky,
it’s petroleum sliding down your throat now.
the human body is 70% ********
and you may meet your quota but you’ll never meet your end,
racing through the stucco in the room your girlfriend rents,
the ridiculous ambivalence seeping through your pores,
staining the sheets you haven’t washed since february,
turning off the tv you were never watching anyway,
letting bulls run and torches light
like that little corner of your eye that twitches when you touch,
like that interrogation manual you can’t read anymore,
the door shuts in your face and your books crush your bones.
and you and mom buy the axe and leave it by the fridge with the broom,
and the more you scratch the rustier the blood.
Sep 29, 2011
Sep 29, 2011 at 8:42 AM UTC
*Come away to me, my LOVE
Run and come to me my LOVE
Your bloods runs through me
Your breathe flows through me
You are the soul of my being
Like a bee buzzing on my flower
I am YOUR flower waiting for my YOU-bee
Come away to me, my LOVE
Run and come to me my LOVE
I often ask myself
Am I being myself?
And the answer is always NO
I am being YOU
What was me - is now YOU
With the innovative artistic stroke
YOU created my LOVE from your soul
My life-vessel is colored by YOU
On top of that you sprinkled your scent
Your Jasmine perfume fragrance my life
Your smile on my face glitters a sunshine
You groom me new & adorn me with YOU
As if I am your bride or groom on honeymoon
I desire your Jasmine flower scented nights
I saw in YOU honey dancing in the rain
Like a wet deer I long, withering in pain
In my heart - your blood pumps
In my veins - your spirit runs
In my pulse - your heart beats
In my dreams - I lean on YOU
For every moment, time and again
Making LOVE to YOU
If you ever see me without YOU
YOU will see me like a fish out of water
How is it fair if you rent your eyes to the Cosmic BLUE?
Who pays the rents - I do, with the LOVE of my heart
How is it fair when you stray in every moment of my life
Touching, talking, whispering, smiling, sleeping with me
Every moment of morning, afternoon, evening and night
When you rain on me, I forget myself and flow in YOU
Like red earth - my blood melts in your being
Come away to me, my LOVE
Run and come to me my LOVE
Your bloods runs through me
Your breathe flows through me
You are the soul of my being
Like a bee buzzing on my flower
I am YOUR flower waiting for my YOU-bee
Come away to me, my LOVE
Run and come to me my LOVE*
Jun 4, 2018
Jun 4, 2018 at 11:53 PM UTC
Love is my sin, and thy dear virtue hate,
Hate of my sin, grounded on sinful loving,
O, but with mine, compare thou thine own state,
And thou shalt find it merits not reproving,
Or if it do, not from those lips of thine
That have profaned their scarlet ornaments
And sealed false bonds of love as oft as mine,
Robbed others’ beds’ revenues of their rents.
Be it lawful I love thee as thou lov’st those
Whom thine eyes woo as mine importune thee.
Root pity in thy heart, that when it grows
Thy pity may deserve to pitied be.
If thou dost seek to have what thou dost hide,
By self-example mayst thou be denied!
1.4k
15th,
the time of the month
when a master card american expresses a visa reminder,
hey your passport gonna get cxld!
don't leave town; you got debts due from living life
to the fullest or the lesser, the black & white soda of
mixed up scrapings and dreaming disney fantasias
7 decades is a whole lot of 15th's
many rent/mortgage notices due,
'postage not included' notices,
(in case you were thinking of cutting a
first class stamp size
corner)
the worst word rent, rents,
and not only on the 15th,
smiling - got to rent me a poem someday,
what is the cost, guessing I'll find out on the 15th next
all the time,
lip limp from weekend to the next Friday,
just just making it through, barely,
month to the month, year to tear, dear and dare
15th to the 15th, teenth to teenth
and what is in betweenth
fully forecast a final call, last call will come on a 15th,
made sure there will be enough left to cover the outstandings,
another outstanding word I love
just enough left to mail me and my ritings,
take care of the responsibles, the non-disposables,
my last months rent, covered, my rep intact,
but no more, no one last yellow taxi ride
***the postage to return me
to my next forwarding address,
and even the cost of this poem,
got it covered***
3:23am 8/15/17
Sep 19, 2017
Sep 19, 2017 at 3:14 PM UTC
I saw a chariot
with the mare in it
making a man carry it
I saw Marie Antoinette
and Judas Iscariot
abdicate an abortion
because they weren't married yet
I saw aunt Harriet
barreled over bones in a casket
gasping
begging them not to bury it
I saw words on a page
that made no sense
I saw leopard prints
I saw tents with tenants
unable to pay their rents
Aug 1, 2011
Aug 1, 2011 at 8:34 PM UTC
I don't want to be
a lesson you go back to
when you need to remember
the definition of loss.
I don't want to be
a living memory
that breathes and laughs
only in your head,
so close but you can only see
when you close your eyes
and hold only in your dreams.
I don't want to be
a tenant who rents a space
only to leave
permanent damages
in your heart.
I want to be
a teacher you turn to
for inspiration
for things that last.
I want to be
an imagination happening
right before your eyes,
not in your mind
nor in your sleep,
whose hands you can hold
and lips you can kiss.
I want to be
a housekeeper who stays
to take care of your heart
and make it my home
for life.
Jan 29, 2015
Jan 29, 2015 at 6:56 PM UTC
We're sixteen again,
sneaking around at night,
pouring rain in the summertime,
quiet whispers in your teenage bed,
heavy breaths and covered mouths,
don't wake up the rents
And like I'm sixteen,
not turning twenty-two,
I don't know better than to break my addiction
and I come back again
to feel the poisoned fingers on my skin
May 28, 2015
May 28, 2015 at 7:09 PM UTC
I wrote this in the dark.
Because the last poem stripped
from the book binding and ripped
from my chest was not valued at
the utility company's worth; a two-hundred dollar bill is not easily disbursed when each
poem nets zero cents per word.
A candlestick will
dematerialize faster than
a wax seal on parchment -
one that establishes the epoch of
Civil Rights -
this is a correlated falsehood
of fixed rents in a gentrified neighborhood.
The plus-side of *******
the poor to cater to the wealthy
is that when the new occupants
move in, and the stainless steel
refrigerator is moved in, the empty
box is placed at the curb, and with
the right imagination it can easily
become a home for two.
Aug 27, 2015
Aug 27, 2015 at 6:36 PM UTC