July 11, 2003
-
cowboys & indians
With the wolfish intake
Of sticks of cancer
We’ll lean on boredom.
In steel-beamed wigwams
We’ll forget we’re young
Living in the broken
Backsliding
Fattening middle.
Pour out cynical
And when the smoke clears,
We’ll freeze the moment
For pending posterity and
Nothing new.
We’ll pass the pipe,
Scrap the war cry
And scratch with fingers on
Chalkboards where once
We scribbled
Caricatures of
True believers and teachers and
Played tic-tac-toe laughing.
—————
Five Seated Figures (Juan Munoz)
———
“Dirty” Harry has roamed this part of LA for the past ten years. With a rusty shopping cart and maybe five teeth, he wears a thick glove on his left hand. The dogs go berserk when he’s at the gate.
He comes off and on. When we first met, we struck up a semi-coherent conversation and I tried to laugh and keep it light. In the end, I brought him some snacks and a few bucks and off he went with his perpetually swollen leg (a dollar short of gangrene). That was years back and he keeps coming. And every time I see him, the inward roll of my eyes gets uglier.He comes drunk and full of demands. I spoke firmly and found it hard to smile. He told me lies about money for surgery and pleaded for two dollars. I didn’t feel much Christian love at the moment. Gritting my teeth, I went inside and grabbed some money and some food and put it in his hands. I forced a grin and I told him I had to go. He lingered for a few moments and stumbled away. He’s gotten a lot of money over the years and each time, I find myself giving less.
I was resentful. Mostly because he comes drunk. I like to think I’d be more positive if he’d be honest (and sober and gracious) in his asking. You know, I’ve worked with homeless groups over the years and some are just so full of love and good humour. You can sit and chat for hours and leave with a hug and full bellies all around. But that definitely isn’t the case with Harry.
Living on the streets can lead people to expect rejection and snobbery. Maybe that leads to depression and lies and alcohol. Christ spent the bulk of his time with the lowest castes. I might sleep better knowing that they were good folk, simply oppressed and unfairly marginalized. But I’m sure it was a mixed bag of mottled lepers, sweet widows, orphan boys, nasty ol’ bastards and tax collectors. I see Jesus somewhere down the road and I’ve got some ground to cover. But be it Harry or me, it’s all grace in the end.——–
—————–
> Coffee Break. <
Comments (20)
party on party people. let me hear some noise. DC’s in the house. Jump Jump Rejoice.
i’m with you on that one dawg.
eric
u have such an open eye
i always appreciate ur props… u should recieve more yourself
Sir,
Your themes are honesty and hope. Keen.
As always, love your words.
AR
Thank you so much for your comments. I enjoy reading your feedback and I’m grateful that you’ve taken the time to respond. I’m currently on a caffeine buzz and looking through your xanga. It is a wonderful synthesis of the written word, visual imagery and sound.
Most people living on the streets have some form of psychiatric disorder that makes it nearly impossible to function in society without the aid of expensive drugs. Instead they turn to alcohol as a form of escape. Too often we turn a blind eye to cracks of society. Personally I think the worst way to help the homeless is giving a handout. I hope you don’t chide me for using the oft’ cliché “teach a man how to fish…” but it does ring true. Monetary transactions are simply a temporary physical solution to a deeper psychological problem. But neither do I confess to know of a better solution.
I really like the poem Daniel.
unless there is another racine journal times….that’s by me.
!
I’m thinking…
There’s a poet in all of us, bro. Yours has found a way of expressing it.Keep it up.
you make a good point in your last paragraph. i’d always had the preconception that Jesus was mostly an advocate of the disenfranchised, but you’re right, he had love for everyone, not just those treated injustly b/c of social stratification. i guess you could say he even loved the Pharisees (but not their sins).
one day i gave a lady a few bucks and then i kinda followed her with my eyes and then in my car to make sure she didn’t go to the nearest liquor store.
You make me feel ashamed for my blanket judgments, stereotypes, and for holding onto one-time impressions from my past. Only if people made me feel this way more often (including my own self)…
And only if there were more like you in LA! Where are people like you hiding over there? Do I need to hallucinate a magic door, a password, something?
good stuff/great layout/Hardy~ hell yah
interesting point about the homeless gentlemen. actually i was privy to visit the downtown warehouse district where many used to live and was blown away by the experience. so much life and another world beyond mine own. there’s definitely something to be said when you’re the only asian kicking it on the sidewalks, at least in the way others react to your presence (by others i mean those in the cars). i can’t say i’m a church going christian or christian for that matter but i agree with your point about giving less and less. acting callous and indifferent is simply the easiest way because there is no grey area, just a no, shake of the head, and mummering. i don’t know how i would deal with the situation but others seem to do admirably and less so.
no result of one with a stranger i met at union station, who took me to that area (near janm)
But then again, some of the best writers I’ve ever seen I met on the streets. They can be good-humoured and actually looking for somebody who would hold a conversation with them. We had regular downtown LA mission teams who would carry food down and evangelize to the homeless and the people on the streets. Mostly it was about food and love, though. Some hated us, but for the most part, when they began to trust us, they were the nicest people I’d ever known. And the people who knew the bible knew it very well, so much better than most of us. It was humbling. Then there were those whom we couldn’t speak to at all because they sat with glazed eyes and mumbled ceaselessly to themselves, carrying the stench of too much alcohol and goodness knows how many other substances, and our cursed fear wouldn’t let us get close. We’d jump farther away when they finally turned their heads to “look” at us and lash out together with a string of obscenities before going back into their sit-and-mumble position.
It was an interesting feeling finally leaving at the end of the day without blankets and food and with empty hands, though. Not an I-did-well feeling. Just a are-we-really-leaving-now feeling. Spend a day in a place and it’s funny how easily the mind gets assimilated.
Oh but Jesus was the iconoclast of the day! He chose the most “unorthodox” methods. Partying all the time, rubbing spit and dirt into poor blind men’s eyes, letting prostitutes and adulterers get close to him and actually forgiving them! Who could think of such things?
Oh I love His grace!
God bless, hugs and kisses.
Lots of Love,><> Elizabeth <><
beautiful – your way with words is impeccable
oh yes! i took your “coffee break,” and now i’m hooked on the atlantic. thanks =D
A few years ago, I was working for and volunteering at a refugee resettlement company. While I was walking a client to apply for health benefits, I bumped into this Asian homeless man. He was selling hand creams and lotions (possibly stolen) on the street. Inside his carboard boxes were small roaches. A few days later, he showed up at the institute reeking of alcohol. Looking at his ID, you would have never recognized the man in the picture. I remember taking the train across town to get him settle in a homeless shelter. His hungry eyes frightened me the entire ride, especially since he had previously tried to hit on me. It was until I came back to the office that I had learned of his situation.
i am so glad you got grace. Jesus was so amazing in his love for everyone, having the ability to see beyond the masks, status, etc etc etc. There was the ability to see the true core of people, and even when it was broken and damaged and difficult to get near, he did it. i’m glad your experience reminded me of that. thank you
p.s. love the visual images for this post. enjoyed much
Glad you like the Konglish and words of the day! It’s great knowing that there are people enjoying the stuff I write. I just hoping I’m not passing on any erroneous information!! I’m not entirely sure of the Korean spellings…spelling is my downfall.
Kyunghee University has an incredibly lovely campus, but it’s a workout to hike up and down all of the mountains! They have a few brand-new buildings, and their cathedral is breathtaking. I hope you can go and see it someday!