Last night’s rental bed was
wider than an ocean, my
wife stranded by a hot flash
way over on the other side. I
woke up half past midnight
wanting comfort but was spurned by
climate change.
I walk sidewalks.
I am growing
more invisible
with each step. I
wander
food-less hearts of cities,
groceries gathered
to busier avenues. What
do you eat when
you are homeless?
Where do you go for food?
No wonder
we are alcoholic
in this town were food stamps
trade at two for one.
The liquor store
on Stone Street sells
MD 20/20 for
two ninety nine.
This asphalt is
not as comfortable as
the Holiday Inn. Wide,
still warm, I roll
across the center line
drunk with dreams of being young. I
reach to find we are together, still
connected though the rest
has come unwound.
Bob Putnam
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