Living in the Shadows
— The Homeless & Needy
Homeless and asleep on steps of church.
Drunk and asleep on sidewalk.
The Bag
The brown paper bag
Lay in the gutter
The bottle’s neck
Sticking out.
The sleeping wino
Lay in the gutter.
The wino’s neck
Sticking out.
© 1975 — Lisa Smith (7th Grade student)
Allen Ginsberg’s comment on the previous poem, “The Bag” by Lisa Smith.
“I like the poem bottle sticking out of paper bag — that’s 100% perfect vision — Allen Ginsberg
om ah Hūm”
Alone…. languishing in hopelessness…. at the bottom of the societal hierarchy….
The Bag Lady
Disabled and abandoned… except by his loyal companion.
Passer-bys
The streets
Are filled
With bums
winos, drunks
The streets
are also filled
with people
quickly passing
the alcoholics.
Afraid
to admit
that
they are there.
© 1975 — Lisa Smith (7th Grade student)
But, not always….
Street Corner Guitarist, Brooklyn
In an Instant
Homeless
Hopeless
Avoiding contact… any kind of contact
….. physical, social, eye….
Is it disgust?
Is it overwhelming sadness?
Or, is it fear?
In an instant, we all could be sleeping on the streets….
Moneyless
Friendless
Family-less
Food-less.
In an instant….
©2021 Jeffrey W. Bloom
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I lived in the East Village during the transition between Bowery Bums and the recently-released mental patients that took over the neighborhood. The Bums were a minor inconvenience, but were docile – they just wanted to (1) get a bottle and (2) pay for a bunk for the night. What came after was chaos. While I was on East 3rd St. I saw a man raped on the sidewalk in the Salvation Army food line. Yes, we called the police. They got there after the event was over. I never had a beef with the drinkers. I had nothing but trouble with the nuts and drug people that Gov. Carey put out onto the street.