The New Homeless Rage   2 comments


the world’s gone pear-shaped
do you feel it?

how did I get here? you ask
in this two-degrees and once business-owning
life of mine?
two maybe three missteps

now I sleep in a state park
scared of snapping sticks, Grim Reapers,
wolves and werewolves
afraid to sleep     afraid to wake
always the cold    coming    going    staying
but my shivery spine comes from eyes that glaze
when I tell my story

“Don’t worry. You’ll find a job,” they say pat, pat

“What don’t you fucking get,” I say.
I can’t stop crying, swearing, raging
I know what it is to flip the light switch in a house,
draw a bath, lie on Martha Stewart sheets,
plant a lilac bush on Saturday, drink a latte on Sunday

It’s gone

I am less
home-less, money-less, scared shit-less
I tell the Tuesday soup kitchen lady thank-you
and ask what she does the other six days
when the wolves are eating me?

“Does anyone get it?”

from conversations with my
homeless friend


2 responses to “The New Homeless Rage

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  1. Dear Mary,

    I read the story you wrote with Cynthia on homelessness in the Santa Fe Reporter. Thank you so much for writing it. I have emailed Cynthia about her project but have not heard back. Is there a way I can send a message to you for her?

    Warm regards,
    A friend


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