Hobo's Poems

Sunsets ocean waves, I can't get up early to watch the sun rise. I accept not living across the street from water. I take the F an hour and a half to Coney Island. Can't afford to rent a car to visit Point Pleasant or Lavalette. Chris never chooses the Coney Island commute, will complain, won't do it. I am open to the wasted space, ready to find more, willing to be stranded for a while near the water. How to use energy  How to be in this time hello me, hello mom, there, where?, here. Retrieve. The physical music of your voice is gone. I am in a vacant lot some nights with no car no buildings, no sounds of birds. Nature, I stop, here. The nectar  is your poetry, lettters, emails, cards, clothing, jewelry Bumblebees and butterflies flit near flowers I am our creation the embodiment of love continues.

director, how much you've grown in your role parents grateful, calming and gentle presence for H,  Thank you for all of the nurturing you gave M,  You helped A feel supported and loved  Thank you for taking care of D and keeping him safe I love you for teaching me, the little boy signs his name in blue crayon

The sand is soft warm carpet exactly what I need.  20 years since I moved here from New Mexico.  Tony took me that first summer in 2003 to NJ for a beach day.  He was a friend of a friend of a friend from NM, and  afterwards we went for seafood at the Lobster Shanty Once, in 2005, I went to the Jersey Shore alone simply to get a few hours near the ocean.  My mom was physically alive then, but she lived in New Mexico and this encounter with the sand and sea was for both of us. It always is.  Then, I listened to the "keep going" wild voice that says  the adventure is not over yet for the day. At 27, I showered and changed, got on the PATH, walked past Union Square, went out dancing with Kristi   in Manhattan at Beautify Bar  Today, 46, I am at Coney Island by myself.  Twenty years ago, a stranger once tried to swim with me here.  It was like he came over and asked me to dance.  I was not into him. Still, I smiled and swam away re...