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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1996196
Rated: E · Poetry · Adult · #1996196
Experience is the best teacher, but some never really learn as much as they should.

-Eviction Letter-
by Keaton Foster
*Vignette5* *Vignette5* *Vignette5* *Vignette5* *Vignette5*

A homeless man
Pinned to his chest
Is an eviction letter
Written in red pen
Or blood
It could be said
The nailer
The crucifier
The one swinging the hammer
The one inflicting such pain
Clearly did so without shame
A safetypin was not used
Instead a spike was driven
To the left of center mass
Placed so that he won’t forget
Between each labored breath
His anguish is apparent
His troubles withstanding
Line by line it reads
Move out
Get lost
Leave now
Vacate or else
Thirty days past due
From across the street
I admire his pain
The ways in which he deals
He stumbles around
Seemingly drunk to some
Seemingly insane to others
But neither to me
I know what he's doing
I see the absolute conviction
Of the perpetrated eviction
I know what he's doing
And more profoundly
Where it is he has been
And where he is going
All of his struggles
Linger in a pool of relation
And he is just swimming
While I am at the bottom
Looking up at existence
Seeing past the murkiness
Out into the clarity
Out into eventuality
Long ago
I wore that same letter
I did those same gestures
Acted as if I was drunk
Pretended as if I was insane
Neither was the case
A homeless man
Pinned to his chest
Is an eviction letter
Written in red pen
Or blood
It could be said
I step from my position of both
Experience and conviction
Waving the man closer
Watching as he crosses the street
Stumbling ass over kettle
He won’t make it to me
I’ll save him the pain
Avoid him further shame
Come to me I again scream
I will help you remove that note
The eviction letter
You’ve been saddled with
Come to me and I’ll save you
The only way I know how
He inches along
Doing his very best
To make me feel sorrier
What a meager performance
He of course has no clue
Who it is he is dealing with
He outstretches his hand
Sir, give me what you can spare
As you can see I have no home
No comfort for these bones
Nothing at all but my pain
And this letter hammered
Into the core of my chest
I reply
Never one so refined
I whisper too late
Look out for that bus…

Eviction Letter
Written by Keaton Foster Copyright © 2014.

© Copyright 2014 Keaton Foster: Know My Hell! (keatonfoster at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1996196