Long Bag lady Poems

"Lizzie Borden took an axe,
gave her mother forty whacks,
when she saw what she had done,
gave her father forty-one,
she washed herself from a watered pail,
she claimed their lies and vicious tales,
she pled not guilty and moaned...

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A monochrome of boho days
segue one another surreptitiously.
Endless pantomimes of idle chatter flutter by.
Cantilever bridge, a one stop halting site for gossip and suspense.
Small talk, bespoke winged creature, Combe of pleuron.
Turin shroud spotter in the...

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She sat outside the coffee shop elbows 
propped up on a small circular blue metal table 
with a frosted glass top, starring intently 
at morning traffic and passersby. 
A partially eaten pastry on a paper...

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It’s a terrible thing to be treated
as less than human ... all should abhor
Considered only as beast of burden — 
that’s the lying end of it, nothing more

Iron yoke was our neck collar,
leash was a...

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In the fall of the year leaves arrayed in copper tones 
crunched underfoot,  the crisp air collided
with the inner heat of her face.

The metal cart grew heavy as she smiled up at the trees,
the...

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From a gem-encrusted window’s moonlit sash,
I peer vacantly on monetesque impressions as they wander every ink shade hue  pathway.
Bag lady street hail loner, water colour lachrymose plight across the spillway nights-cape,
Cul-de-sac of shadow flitting...

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Old with wisdom they say
A long life she lived
Wrinkles tell her story well
The crow’s feet gauge her eyes
Dull, colored grey now
Without a spark in sight. 
Time is for the birds
The clock has not been kind...

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The clothes she wore were twenty years old
Tattered and torn not much protection from the cold
The rusty cart she pushed with wheels well worn
The hair on her head needed to be shorn

Slowly into the emergency...

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Night is not like day,
when my body is groggy and I get tired,
but sleep doesn't come suddenly...


Even when the macabre darkness reigns,
I seek the hidden moon among the hickories,
to make me stray from loneliness...


And strolling...

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'Twas a sunny Sunday in June
Father's Day was in its throws
We were just young children
No money, but good at putting on shows

I was the youngest of four
My opinion meant it was a no no
Especially when...

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There we were - Alf and I - Pharaohs,
surveying those white pyramids -
Nests of ibis - ovulating - 
Opera.

Across the bridge we danced,
Swaying o'er the waves below - 
Spectred lovers on a phantom ship -
Drifting...

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Homeless Me Never!!!
I am not the bag lady you see down the street.
I am not  the addict who beggs for cash.
I am not the window washer you see when you get gas.
I am not...

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just before errands in the city 
an egg and bacon breakfast 
straight from a greasy griddle 
strong coffee perks us 
for the coming day 

a wire-haired woman sits 
at a nearby table for six 
in...

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BAG-LADY IN THE PORTRAIT GALLERY

In all my failed moments of ambitious grace,
The truth, swarth-headed, lifts its greenest shape
To madly light the curls of whitest lace
Edging your throat, and redeem the nape

Where a brown knob burnishes...

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I tell my grandchildren that I live in a van down by the river.
They laugh, delighted.
I call myself trailer trash.
They dance to this, happy that I am here now, amusing them.

I throw out equally outrageous...

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I awoke dreaming of the end of the world,
You know the houses and cars sinkining into a sea of water and fire,
Then I had breakfast,
Hurried to the shops with my benefit cheque,
Spent it all on...

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Her head hung in shame
why is she to blame?
Kids took it all from her
now all she has is this worthless fur
that keeps her warm at night
a space to keep warm is a terrible fight
a small...

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