Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

michael lives in the woods
he's a real man
not some kinda figment myth
but he is forgotten
in most descriptions of manhood,
he has a blue tarpaulin
and a green plastic tub with a lid,
fallen tree for sofa, stump
for end table...he has
a stolen red grocery cart stashed
in the brush for foraging supplies
and his voice rises to indignation
when I ask him if he will be staying
here all winter....he takes a step backwards
places his hands on his hips
and boldly blasts out, " I am not Homeless !
I'm camping !", and his dignity
hits me across the chin like a left jab,
like a right cross of truth
so stark, it hurts to the bone,
and I say to michael , "Of Course !
I knew that, michael...I like camping too "

There are so many empty buildings, and so much food thrown away.Nice poem.

but he is forgotten
in most descriptions of manhood,


no bestiario, no inventario, no news ... interesting lines...!

Hurts to the bone.....homeless....there is a cold beyond cold outside.....

thanx for the comments....we are all a whisker from being in the same boat....there are men that believe is austerity.....men that want to gut all the safety nets....we can't let them do it