soon

soon it will be back to the streets…someplace…some city…

moving in and out of people on sidewalks…jazz-joints…midnight diners where tranny whores down milkshakes…drunken couples talk loudly…police and thieves seated side by side…and redheads pour coffee and laugh at my jokes…

back to shelters and drop-in centers…sweating bullets in a broken system…waiting for meds to deliver me from temptation…there is always temptation…

weekly trips to art museums…daily mass…readings of poetry in pubs and coffee houses…always listening…to old men talk shop…conflicted suburban divorcees on shopping sprees then down on their knees in need of something different…speed-freaks…junkies…salesmen…guys askin for a buck or two…Polacks and Dagos looking for fights…observe and record…always taking notes…

this craft will kill me…i’m O.K. with taking a bullet…sleeping among bedbugs…homeboys howling at hookers on street corners…showing-up at shooting galleries and crack dens to pull brothers out…all for a story…a poem…a new language…

soon it will be back to the streets…someplace…some city…

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