Homeless In The Car Poem by James McLain

James McLain

James McLain

From Tampa Florida And Still Living Near By

Homeless In The Car



I just was thought-provokingly,
I always read more into something than there was.
After two years it becomes more than a job.
It became more than life, life my own.
Tring at low tide
to harvest the claws, of the mighty stone crab.
By hand with gloves on, while it's, in its hole.
Under the eyes of big brother, as I understand.
Five tickets in six weeks for that same homelessness.
I did what I could and one or the other,
I had to pick 'n chose with one guess, never two.
So some chose without malice I suppose,
that I was to long in a car without progress?
All those psychological bullets, that hit with a solid thud.
still leaves us to guess, at which what?
This neighbor hood is kinda-well?
Is it as it should be?
Without a car
all those places, are twice as hard,
to get to than they were before.

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James McLain

James McLain

From Tampa Florida And Still Living Near By
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