MY CORNER SITS BOB

Watching the pigeons peg leg by

The sun beats you down

Sitting in shit and pee

Homeless and free

Your white beard grows as the calendar

It just skips

Reminding me of my father

Stable and grand you sit

Clothes scattered in flies

Paper bags

Crumbs of rye bread

Fisherman hat covers your sweating head

Your eyes stay monumental

I asked you one day

About the Marine Corps hat you wore

A soldier in the Korean War you were

Now soldiering dirty streets

Doing your best I guess

You pour a little gulp of liquor

Into a big gulp of rest

Sleeping bag

No zipper

No bills to lick away

Just passing cars to count on

Beach umbrella sheltered like a picnic

You wrench

I briskly walk past you at dawn

The clock radio already on

Talk radio like NPR keeps you baffled on the world you escaped

I wonder why

You still listen to what we all have become

Where did you decide

To leave this race and what was this worth

Who will reap the stories of your youth

I feel scared to touch your long

Brittle fingernails

Filthy with dirt and feces

Your skin charred well done

You must have had a life well done

For so many years

I wonder if life

Ever brings you to tears

Anymore

I wonder if there is any shore

Of waves

That could bring you back

To us

This society

Probably no one

Pondering what happened

My corner sits Bob

The old Korean War vet

The Marine Corps net

Must have missed you when you fell

I still give you a dollar every day

Knowing dam well maybe a meal

Another bottle of scotch

Anything that your big heart desires

I think of one day taking you into my place

Hot shower new clothes

Imagining the way

I would have to scrub the toilet when you’re gone

The smell of disease

And puke on your breath

Who’ll notice

This little old man’s last steps

I still look for you daily

Passed yesterday and you were gone

I gasped BOB!

I yelled wondering where

You had gone-a homeless man

Never gone

When you have no ground zero I guess

 

But just seeing your clothes and makeshift camp empty made me worry

I still care Bob

I still worry

For there is one last person

With a soul watching you grow old

Waiting a story to pour from your

Whiskered beard

Your snap-quick voice

Sleeping all through the day

I see you almost every day

Bob and now you waive back at 5:50 am

A silent friendship we have began

Bringing you food is so easy to do

You look like my dad you crazy old fool

Wipe your face more often

Keep your dreams alive

Wherever you are Bob

Wherever you are

I know this life is just but a dream

To hear inside your head for a day

I wonder what that means

For wherever you are Bob

For wherever you really are