Curbside

Sat up suddenly on a friend’s hard couch,

                   My father’s finger pointing, “ Don’t be a slouch!”

Stirred my coffee as that dream swirled 'round my head..

     rubbing my stiff neck and missing my bed.

Walked the tired streets searching for a reason,

                            found them all out of stock, out of season.

So here am I, all messed up,

                            here am I, all dressed up,

My few belongings in my knapsack.

                            What do I really lack,

but a person who understands

             the power of a chance,

                        And a briefcase in my hand?

If opportunity knocks upon my door,

                              “He don't live here anymore!”,

my landlord will be sure to say,

                    Since he threw my stuff curbside 

 yesterday.

 

Author's Note

Got the idea of a guy (a recent college grad with a degree in business) that cannot find a job anywhere and has all this college debt to pay back...

Reviews

[spence]

This has a really cool feel to it...streetwise, almost beatnick... definitely hard hitting and uncompromising as is the reality this portrays. I'm not really sure what else to say- I appreciate art forms that informs and offers insight into things that matter and could be changed for the better... it's the activist in me that inspired me to write socio-political 'poetry', ('rhymes' might be more accurate), in the first place. This is a frightenly accurate portrayal of the ever decreasing cycle of poverty and dissaffection that self-perpetually scuppers all opportunities to effect positive change.
Good call on an issue that probably shouldn't be an issue in our staggeringly wealthy and fortunate nations! Take care, spence

[Kelsie Eileen Stark]

Beautiful poem!