HOMELESS: a poem

I got up and
Did the bathroom bit
And had breakfast
And looked out the window
At the spring.

Then I went to the
Library and looked at
The homeless guys sleeping there
Some pretending to read
Through closed eyes
Bodies slouched in disjointed
Repose.

They’re not all homeless
Some live in shelters
And group homes
Sad and insane
Lives torn by
Alcohol and unhappiness
Drugs and despair.

Some of the homeless guys
Even have learned to use
The library computers and spend
Time looking at jobs they
Will never apply for
And look at
The encyclopedic knowledge
That they never will use.

I try to talk with some
Of them but the conversations
Wander into places I
Don’t want to go or else
They become me listening to
Anger over real and
Imagined injustice.

I take my books home
And read for awhile and
Then eat a light lunch
And take a
Nap and plan for later
Today.