lest i forget

good morning, shouted the sun, the hot smell of baked goods, rotting flowers,

cardboard boxes filled with day-old fruit and the soiled clothing of

"others"

patching together nylon homes on 7th street.

good morning, yawned milky mist vaporizing into piercing blue,

becoming lazy versions of itself and painting its calm azure

across the skyline.

yowls, low smoker growls, restless cell phone conversation

voices of ratty cats and aspiring stars with hair bleached into oblivion.

it is a stark contrast to the dark grime of street dwellers and street food sellers.

my body is tanned and covered in sweat already -

twenty degree jumps and corporate hills and bright dusty parks

fill my day with blisters and laughs and then very deep sleep.

overpriced food encourages me to choose my fuel wisely

(or not, for a discount).

hand-to-mouth existence remains comfortable for now, but i,

(in my privilege), find a way to reignite a healthy fear.

i run to catch the last bus home and my face turns for a mere moment

to check a blind corner.

no oblivious joggers, but instead,

a family

crawling into a big orange tent.

little baby with unintentional dreadlocks holds her cup out

as if asking for more apple juice.

it jangles with small change.