Tuesday, December 28, 2010

Telegraph Avenue

I saw your the legions of lonely drifters pouring into Berkeley
Sad badly drawn faces and hard scrabble lives 
They could not be untangled from the despair of ruinous events
There was an uncommon mix of anger and joy
Alternately rising from the shuffling hordes
They sought peace with dignity
But often brought their addictions and insanity
We danced around them
Sometimes offering help
Sometimes offering the jack boot
They raged under hot suns 
Sought shelter from drenching rains
They asked constantly
We seldom gave
These are the moments of sad wisdom
When we decide to ration our humanity
Impatience with their clarity
Longing for their ramblings
Confused by how they frame us within their minds
Ignoring their slurred words and scabby arms
Selling bits of them
They choke on our intolerance
But never fade

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