At first, I interpreted his stare as being judgemental. Perhaps he didn’t like bald men or the way I wore my glasses off my nose. I immediately became disturbed by his rudeness, and I eyeballed him back.
Excerpt from The Eccentric at Friday Flash Fiction.
A young homeless couple
living below the poverty line,
among the sirens of despair
Dream of stepping lightly,
waltzing on the cliff of hope,
high in the rich hills of midnight
Moving to the rhythm of the universe,
to the song in their hearts
to a light show down below
Slowly, in their own time,
giving each other their hands,
they find their desires
Discover themselves, their passion
in the City of Angels, dancing
like Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire.
His memories live
in his worn out
woolen blankets,
full of holes
and frayed at the edges.
His dreams dwell
in faded tattoos,
barely visible,
yet the pain remains.
©️mark tulin
Call for social justice. Raise your awareness through this collection of poetry about the homeless.
My two poems are included in this collection: Christmas Day and Tattoo Man.
Click on the link to read this wonderful and insightful collection: Voices for Peace. Homelessness Edition.
This poem appears in the elephant journal on Sep 1, 2017
Hear me read, I Only Want People to Look at Me
