where in the scorching summer time walking the streets
I am longing for something to cool my dry throat,
where past the police substation, past the fire station,
past the full Vons parking lot,
past the Wendys and Wells Fargo
the homeless set up a makeshift city…their city within a city
and sit on the corner in front of the Department of Social Services
with a sign “Homeless, any little bit helps”,
Where rummaging through trash cans
to be able to afford that next drink or smoke
is considered earning a living
where that smell of urine from the bum sleeping on the bench
One of many people sleeping and waiting at stop 22,
who have no place to go
Make their way to the north side,
their only option is to wait for the Q to take them from
downtown to uptown all for $2.00, half of what it costs to fill up a gas tank,
where north meets south, in the middle a self sustaining city,
an all you can eat buffet of plump peaches, fervent fermented grapes,
mouth watering oranges and a bounty of vegetables
all ready to be harvested from a never ending giving earth
even though not everyone can eat it.
where everyone is connected by miles of mazes
99, 41, 180, 168,
north…south…east…west
where traffic cones stand at attention
Forcing already frazzled and agitated drivers
to listen carefully at the hazard they are warning about
where each summer, the land burns
and people flea for their lives from their homes with only what
they can carry, where every day you run from something
that you can’t escape from your past.
r…u…n…n…i…n…g from the daily sirens that scream “Hold on, I am coming!”
Only to find quiet rest at a pond surrounded by trees,
peaceful water and ducks that waddle across the street against the light
in front of stopped traffic.
Where the neighborhood bar never closes,
everyone knows your name,
slowly sipping a Bud Light or poorly made cocktail you can shoot pool,
knocking the days’ stress into the leather pockets…1 ball at a time
--Amanda N., Adult