my friends a junkie now
one year ago he
was a husband
with a 2 year old kid
an apartment and sometimes
a smile on his face
now his child and wife
are homeless living in a van
and tonight,
staying in my spare bedroom
if she didn’t have a cat
they could stay here a while
Paul’s gone,
Seattle or down south or wherever
he is,
he’s gone.
I saw him a month or so back
at the homeless shelter,
I eat there sometimes
he looked like hell
and couldn’t hardly talk to me
his daughter’s name is
Karma
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
it can't get much more ironic than that, can it? Jake