I’m living on pennies.
Kennedy takes up too much space.
Squandering my life, living in this copper place.
Haven’t enough to live
too poor to die.
I’ve slept in the soup kitchens
Stole a spoon
but what for?
Stainless steel is cold, sterile and hard.
I’ve walked fifth avenue
Saks won’t have me.
Sleeping on the shelter floor
I’ve set my shoes on fire for warmth.
Is living worth living if there is no one to live for?
Is living worth living if my only home is an asbestos-tile floor?