Coffee Truce

Imagine a truce calledover made-to-order coffee—mean words surrenderingto flags of coffee fragrance,dreamy humidity of steam.Envision conflicts re-placed by slurping sounds,the


Sooner or later Writer’s need a real audience Writers need someoneTo listen To what they have written Unless it is a diary or a

Lemon Wedge

She sips gingerlyfrom the cup of“try again,”acknowledgeslife’s lemon wedgebitter-brighton teacup’s rim.She tells us the wedgeis a yellow sailon her spunky

When you gotta go

When I was homeless in the Bay Area, I had an awfully hard time getting myself to a bathroom on any kind of regular basis. It wasn’t so bad when I only had to go No.1, as we used to call it. I could usually find some kind of bush to duck behind, and the cleanup process wasn’t nearly so involved. Also, the sense of stigma or shame attached to the act of having to pee outdoors wasn’t nearly so severe as the corresponding sense of shame involved in having to go No.2.

Finding serenity on the street

I have spent the last six and a half years of my life homeless, and the last three and a half years living solely on the street. I have put a great deal of effort into gaining first-hand knowledge of the mentalities of individuals I have met.