To you who sleep on street corners,
hugging a bottle of vodka and scratching in your bitterness,
tottering drunk at intersections, bumming a shekel, a cigarette or gum,
challenging an attaché case and an SUV,
...
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This is an amazing poem Tamir. Haunting and beautiful and dark, all at the same time. the lines: ' you, who are the wound and the salvation, the silence and the scream, slaves of the white dust falling on the city, ambassadors of dreams, angels of unconsciousness, who at some time were given a name...' Are timeless. Excellent work. 10+++++