I might live in the trees
and study the survival techniques
of living off pine nuts
and whatever else pokes through the snow
But I will not be a a street person
I could not make a career of
babbling in the back of the bus
and asking for spare change
Or I could study the physics
of falling bodies from high places
far away
from where anyone can find them
But I will not be a street person
shivering in the glare
of a patrol car's searchlight
neither alive nor dead
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A defiant poem against falling victim to being a nobody, nowhere. Your life's work is a big part of your identity. I like it.