The Man I Met in the Tenderloin

he bled the same blood as me
crimson red
like african tea
able bodied as a boy
now rail thin
some evil ploy
reversed the places
of he and i
a grizzled beard
his one good eye
blinking fast
in a rhythmic trance
a victim of choice and circumstance
i left him there
and headed home
gave him a sweater
nicely sewn
i write these words
warm in bed
while alone tonight
he bleeds
crimson red.

comfortable

are there stars
beyond these clouds?
if you see one
point it out.
and as the fog
hugs the hills
i wonder still
is there life
beyond this valley?
i'm not sure.
but for now
i'm comfortable,
it's safe
to say
i don't care anyway.
it's just some headlines
on papers that i can do without.
i'm comfortable and
they're easy to forget about.
(it's dark now
and i'm warm.
i hate this weather).