Homeless Blues

I talked to a french bi – lingual guy

he was homeless

and I loved him cause he speaks two languages

he had his rough accent I presented to understand

I chugged a few beers with him

and came away a better man

and he made a friend.


I love life when this shit happens.

Its real and in your face.

I don’t write poetry about fakes in facets

that delude us into intrusions were

we are left feeling abused.


I like the french.

French kisses and stammers and stutter

I know what to say to finish your sentence

but Ill let you utter



In the end I  said shit; here is a beer for the road

I just got hired so I;m not homeless tomorrow

you seem cool, in the  future call me if you need to borrow.  .

he just hung his head low and coward and said

I’m tired of people stealing my bed.


And that when I said; here man

take another can of beer; if you need me

next time I’ll be here.







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