Afternoons near Judah turnaround

Beside a dumpster,
You weep for winos,
Milking brown bags from the Mission
With sullen smiles for narcoleptics
On backhoes beside Meeker Market,
While wiping up pity
With a white, wilted napkin from Chez Mollet.


​Each of every bad boy seems
Focused for to come down.
His intentions gargle like misbehaved fountains,
Fighting the wind.
Puking with rage.

All the world’s a stage.

So now,
Our teachers stretch,
Marginally uncomfortable,
With an eye towards recess
And plod silently
Beside one another’s
Bedsores,
Burnished with Bactine
And Benzadrine bought
Behind Meeker Market.


2/12/2000