Kitty-corner from
La Costeña Bar with it’s
all black matte walls, red
trim,
palm trees leaning towards
each other as in
acknowledgement,
and across from the Ronald
Reagan
“the great communicator” Memorial
Building
people on the street shake and
shiver.
Early morning chill licking
their scaly skin?
They shake and shiver for a
fix?
From the ghosts of past wars that
harass
them, they scream and argue with
to no ends?
The people of skid row, shake
and shiver
gathered underneath the tree,
slap hands
in the middle of a traffic meridian
smoke on butts, sip out of
steamy cups.
What a sight
an image wavering
on the fringes of
revitalization…just missed it
out of sight, always out of
mind.
Right across the street from
the Ronald Reagan Memorial
people are sprawled out, hungry
cold, tired, pale around the
edges
an image struggling to be
seen
by the early passers by scrambling
to get to…get away, shoo away
panhandler’s pleadings with a turn
of the head
or turning up their car stereo.
A woman leans against a fence,
sits
on her concrete throne
displaced “welfare queen”
tugs at a wrinkled not so
hefty trash bag,
stretches the edges
till they turn gray
pulling for an extra inch of
shelter.
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