The Land Of The No Names Poem by Tsani Jones

I watched from the distance
Engulfed in my screams
Surrounded by despair
As I watched my dreams
Drift into smoke and flame.
That day was in 1983,
When my wife and children left for good.
Left me all alone.

My name is Clarence,
To the few that ask...
The funerals left me with nothing,
No family, no money, no heart.
So I've been wandering
Fifteen years now,
Looking for God,
Just so I could ask Him, 'Why? '

I looked for the Christians,
You'd figure with all of
The churches, you'd find one
Somewhere, but they're all gone.
My church is the First Church
Of McDonald's.
They always have food out back,
Enough for me, anyway.

I figure I'm a public servant
Nowadays, I clean up
The litter for all useable,
And I clean every
Ashtray I can find.
You'd be amazed what
Can be found
When no one wants to know your name.

It's a cold one today,
That's for sure.
I look at myself
Still sad, still lonely, still cold.
How did I get here?
The tape on these shoes
Will only hold out for a little
Longer.

I guess no one reads the Bible
Or even cares anymore.
People glare at me
On the way to their people jobs,
People families, people houses,
The nice people stores
I can't go into,
And they all have people names.

I'm looking at a young man,
Stars in his eyes,
Like mine once were.
'You look mighty cold, '
I hear the voice say,
But he can't be talking
To me, nobody talks to
Me. I look again.

I watch him go into
The people-store and
Get a cup of coffee,
What I wanted before
They threw me out
On my ear.
I wonder at the cup
Of hot coffee warming my cold hands.

'What's your name? '
The voice says,
But it has to be me,
I'm the only one here.
So I say.
'Where are you from? '
The people-person asks,
So many questions.

'So, you're a ten? '
The boy asks, more questions.
But something's different.
My feet are warm,
My hands are warm,
And I have a whole cigarette.
'Why do you care? '
I ask the people-voice.

'Because I was like you, once.'