Keep Away
Found spoons put on carousels,
Bicycle rims to crown weather vanes,
Dreamcatchers woven in jungle gyms
Are all ways of saying "I matter."
They all want to be seen
Yet be invisible
When they fly their smiley flag
Or pontificate beyond the fence
Inscribed with 100 Gulf War Vet grievances,
1000 PRIVATE identities parading:
The Fallout Shelter Ecozone,
The "off-the-grid" hook-up for RVs.
There are no rules ...
You must stay inside your car
They are clowns dancing
In the sand
With hands out,
Yet another way to spin
The homeless embankment
As a realized dream.
A BBC documentary was made here once
Of these implacable East Jesus folks,
Their perpetual transience
Is part of history now (they announce),
Something (one would think) only
The sneaker tree could escape.
Mask Up or Fuck Off ...
The Last Free Place
There's no water, electricity,
The po-lice drag the streets
Yet every winter thousands more
Arrive from the shores of the fishbone sand
And war-zoned beachfront property
Of an American dream
That lies well beyond Bombay Beach,
Looking for this, as something.
There's a library here
Where you can read and drink, and forget
You are a normie, by being reminded
That is all you'll ever be.
