Abe Louise Young: Calling from the Homeless Camp
On Tenderness, Expulsion and Mutual Aid
Nidia Hernández: Río Turbio translated by Rowena Hill
I stopped in front of
the silence of all that distance
of my country being erased
Barbara Crooker: Who Do You Carry?
On city streets, the homeless unfurl
their sleeping bags like hungry tongues.
Max Graham: Food Forests Aren’t Just Nourishing. They’re Cool.
Trees and edible plants are being planted at churches, schools, street corners, and empty lots across the country to provide free shade and food to all.
James Crews: Homeless
How do you pack up a whole house,
help your parents haul your toys thrown
in boxes from the liquor store, stuff them
in the back of the car in the middle
of the night because they can’t afford
to pay the rent they owe?
Majid Naficy: Every Night in this City
Every night in this city
Thousands of people sleep on the street
Robert Service: Compassion
For God knows it is good to give;
We may not have so long to live,
So if we can,
Let’s do each day a kindly deed,
And stretch a hand to those in need,
Bird, beast or man.
Lisa Fay Coutley | Shelter: Michigan
He wants me
to believe he met Jesus in Memphis
after his car went dead & he forgot
& forgot & forgot to feed his dog.
Video: Zarlasht Halaimzai | What it’s like to be a war refugee
In this poignant, vital talk, Zarlasht Halaimzai articulates the lingering trauma of being expendable — and shares how belonging to a community can help bring back feelings of long-lost safety.
Michael Simms: Brotherly Love
we’re afraid to look deprivation
in the eye, resent admitting our own dumb luck
Jefferson Carter: Cat & Transient
I swore I’d stop writing about liberal guilt
& about cats too, but I must confess
last night, I groomed our little black cat
with my tongue
Jose Padua: Union Square
their crazy dad, his singular
song, with the only people putting money
in his cup looking as crazy as he did
Deborah Bogen: Homeless Box
Sometimes we cross to the other side to get away from their carts and tarps, to avoid their dirty murky faces, but mostly we look through them, past them, above them, our eyes seeking the sanctuary of the shiny store windows.
Philip F. Clark: The Beggar’s Welcome
He stopped and asked if I could spare some change. I thought, Oh yes, I could spare so much: another job, a new home, other clothes, better weather, more chances, … Continue reading
