*****

Recorded Reading (6:10): https://www.dropbox.com/scl/fi/p2675ksdnt4jglc2b2wbz/Giving-it-Up.aac?rlkey=jfu36eh48y1rkr4jbywagpevy&dl=0

*****

Well! We are sitting in increasing pain in the increasing outdoor cold while the world forgets all about harassment and discrimination laws, disturbance of the peace, and any and all enhancements which go with elder, female or disabled abuse (ooh, the ADA ~ any lawyer good enough to be out of reach of the homeless would know what to do with that one!)

What shall we do with our time?

Shall we have some poetry?

The poet’s not really in the mood for hearts and flowers.

… Should she be?

*****

Giving it Up

After the television’s all done telling you
Avoid your brother’s eye upon the street
Acknowledge not the person that you view
Make sure you never actually meet

To tell each other each one’s story to,
Comparing existences, as it were,
Perhaps realization coming to
Alikeness from such tales you may infer

For, in the face grassroots communion of,
How will the pundits of false majesty
Insist, ‘midst wakening brotherly love,
He is to you a dreaded enemy?

How to divide and conquer, after your
Good conversation union proven has,
Assumptions which you fearful made before
Don’t fit the friend now see him clearly as?

After they’ve done their best convince you to
Ignore him altogether — if you must
Give something to him, they say, make sure you
Never give cash, if you wish to be just

Intent that contribution thereunto
Give food, give vouchers, give most anything
Except what in his own personal view
A modicum of happiness might bring

Insist that he enjoy exactly what
You would enjoy, as you are given choice,
Your individual preference sought,
Encouraged your dislikes to give a voice

Insist that he walk someplace far away
(As he must do to sit, to pee, to sleep)
To get to where you chose to lunch today
To his appointment with your voucher keep

Where he will find himself regarded worse
Than dirt ‘neath a “real” patron’s fingernail
Pinched lips, self righteous, holding back a curse
Where shallowness and vanity prevail

Give toothpaste to the toothless, combs to those
Who haven’t seen a mirror in a week
Deodorant — as well give pantyhose!
And all the while your sad selections speak:

“You are no better than an imbecile
Just walking by you, I easily see
That, given cash, you absolutely will
Spend it on something abhorent to me

“I am superior — intelligent
Responsible and, look, generous too —
Clearly such as I by God was meant
To give instruction unto such as you,

“You useless, weak and parasitic soul!
Look upon my entitled affluence
Admit that you are less than my good whole ~
To be like me, just give yourself a chance!

“For everyone in my position knows
It is because you’re careless that you’ve failed
I’m just a better person, and it shows
Because my money says that I’ve prevailed!

“And that is why I have it, and you don’t
And if you think I’m going to give you some
You must be nuts — I most certainly won’t,
To help you even nuttier become!

“In short, you’re not a person (and I am),
Providing just one opportunity
Amid the selfish sins your spirit damn:
To help me think even better of ME!”…

When circumstances overwhelming and
Multiple put this poet on the street
She left the contributions in the hand
Of this type of a donor when they’d meet

However pressing the necessity
It could not in her heart take precedent
Over the abject, false humility
Extract from her that chary donor meant

There were a few her heart still longs to find
And wring their hands in deepest thankfulness
They linger shining in her musing mind
And every time they do, their souls she bless

Each came to her a bit hesitantly
As would approach a sister, sensitive,
Discriminating, with civility,
Whom on the street but accidental live

Beginning with “Excuse me,” they redeemed
Her beingness with every simple word ~
A thousand days, a thousand years it seemed
Since she such gracious kind address had heard

“I wonder if you do me honor would
By taking these few dollars from me here
I see you sometimes in my neighborhood
Want you to know, I wish you well, my dear!”

God bless those people! They gave back to me
What ghostly I had never thought they could
Who more invisible each morning be:
They gave this person back her personhood

*****

*****

This poet is physically disabled.

Public housing being insufficient to her medical and creative needs, in order to continue working she is presently living in her minivan, publishing all of her works using one thumb on the touch screen of her smartphone and surviving at a fraction of her nation’s poverty level.

If her work has touched you, she would treasure any contribution you might be good enough to offer ~ http://www.UgiftABLE.com ● #72D-31S.

Please be aware that it takes several days for her to be notified of patronage. Thank you for caring.

*****