Life Of A Derelict
(Epoch One: 1979-1982)

From a corner liquor store,
To a distant, lonely park bench he treks.
Wearing dishevel attire covered
With unintended spills of unconsumed escape.
He resides on a street reserved
For society's unwanted, forgotten
Considered by some - scum of the earth.

He tries to keep asleep,
To keep from being hungry.
He is oblivious to everyone
And to his own self-respect.
His inattentive beard merges
Unfavorably with embedded dirt.
From days and nights of sanitary neglect.

He survives not out of desire
But from impulse.
His concerns are no longer
Of warmth and gentleness.
Every face he gazes into
Is cold and unappealing.
His life's only solace
Is the impotent feeling,
That not even a burning hell
Could be worse.