(click to enlarge photograph)
when there are beans, there are poor people
eating them in the sheds south of the water.
they are destined to struggle. they will die
in the city of their birth.
dogs like buddy don't come around but once
in an age, and he'll tell you the secrets of time-
the things that went missing since he was here
the last time, and you'll die to know that he will
soon be gone while you are living on
i used to grow them in my yard to taste
and remember the shoes i wore holes thru by night.
nothing would tag the innocent children of poverty
like the rags they put back on.
dogs they don't care. i am animal, i am man, i am
the sweltering heat of the pavement south of the water.
the life of happiness is nothing but loving to be loved
and the gross part of humanness is seen echoing
in the voices of dogs, complaining about their beans.
(photo by jP sept 2010)