Someone Will Scrounge

I’ve come to visit you again, to sit with you, and just be.

I found you unaware of the surroundings

sleeping on the street twitching, more like having seizures,

no body control and covered in black dirt.

Naked, your private parts are slightly hidden by a filthy blanket

waiting for your next fix. Or maybe you were waiting for a friend

to bring you food.

But the food truck forgot to include the plastic fork and spoon

and you threw the whole thing back at me

rather than wait to see if we can find a solution—

whether it be a quick run to the corner store

or back to the food truck that unintentionally forgot

to include the dinnerware.

You screamed, “Did you want me to eat it like a dog?”

No, you are entrenched in your demanding entitlement;

you are an illegal alien, and you have committed crimes

that you didn’t have to commit.

it’s almost understandable that you might steal for food

as food is a basic need.

but you pluck your pecker from your pants and masturbate in public,

you’ve exposed yourself oft by staggering

around with genitals exposed, sporting a deranged

and a menacing grin. you knew what you were doing,

you were not entirely out of your mind.

However much you want us to believe you’ve lost all sanity;

you have not lost your faculties; you simply do not care

that you are a circus sideshow spinning out of control, living in debauchery

you are the enemy of your own life force. You’re self-indulgent and lewd

you are a one-way street of selfishness

I’ve brought myself to these nasty streets where you say you thrive

I’ve brought money, food, and phones, giving comfort and support

asked to help you help yourself, and I’ve been willing to provide all the tools

for you to clean yourself up, and get help

you remain arrogant, haughty, pompous, condescending

ungrateful. Denying accountability

you are on a one-way street with no exit ahead

you’re a tornado that circles in my world

I want to continue to care even though you display

clenching teeth, movements so bizarre impossible to sit still

you act like a demon. So much is broken

I jumped through hoops of fire

but it is time for me to hang up my hero cape

here on the boulevard of broken dreams

while I sit with you at the dysfunction junction

I am cognizant of your boiling pot of beastly bitterness

towards not just me but all humankind

Bête Noire self-centered and second-rate saboteur

with lipstick as eyeshadow and something painted on your forehead

to look like a bullet wound, yet you say you do not wish

death even as you colorfully animate such a desire.

you are a gallery of grotesqueness indulging in your tragedy porn

your family wants you home in safe and warm surroundings

we want to help peel back those layers of complexities

and shelter you from all the different levels of chaos,

shielding you from being a victim of your trauma.

But you acrimoniously reject our offers

You have a beautiful mind, a beautiful mess

but you believe the reality is you are an ugly, deranged

horrific mess, a feral fright draped motionless over a gutter

in a den of lions and tigers and bears.

But what would you do if a hungry tiger pounced

in front of your eyes, ready to devour you as an afternoon snack?

Would you stay there, or get up, and run?

I came with food as a token, as a white flag surrendering to your choices

to share a space and a bit of time; I wanted to nourish your body

even if I can’t nourish your mind. but you threw the food back

at me when the food truck left out the little plastic dinnerware.

Okay, leave the perfectly wrapped tacos, beans and rice,

chips and guacamole, and chicharrones scattered

across the sidewalk where you threw it, someone

else will be by shortly to scrounge for a meal

that you threw away the same as you dumped on love.