This poem on the same subject appeared in the March, 1998 issue of Seattle's Real Change:

                                                                HOMELESS

                                                    Do you ever wonder how it feels
                                                    To be one of the ones
                                                    Whose existence has been declared
                                                                                               illegal
                                                     Because their poverty has been pronounced
                                                                                               a crime?
                                                     It means your every daily activity
                                                     Has been declared
                                                                                    invalid
                                                     And therefore
                                                                            interruptible.
                                                     It means that when you wash dishes
                                                     You are causing
                                                                                    "a sanitation problem."
                                                      It means you are expected to feel
                                                                                    guilty
                                                      For merely being alive (and I do.)

                                                      When will they learn
                                                       That it doesn't work
                                                       To be angry with me
                                                                                for continuing to exist
                                                                                        and having nowhere else to be
                                                                                            and therefore remaining
                                                                                                in their faces?

                                                      They have too narrow a definition
                                                                                of what constitutes
                                                                                            a valid existence.

                                                       But it doesn't matter what I think
                                                                                of their definitions
                                                       Because I am still the one
                                                                                    whose existence has been declared
                                                                                                    invalid.

                                                        Don't they know how it sounds to us
                                                                                    when they endlessly bellow,
                                                        "You're still here!
                                                                                You were told to leave
                                                                                            two weeks ago!"

                                                         Pardon me, sir, for remaining
                                                                                    on the planet
                                                                                            beyond the time limits
                                                                                                    which you obviously have
                                                                                                        the right to set.
                                                         I guess I need it explained to me
                                                                                        again
                                                                                            that I have no right
                                                                                                    to exist.

    And this one appeared in their following issue:

                                                ON THE "RELAXATION" OF EUGENE'S
                                                                    CAMPING BAN

                                                         It almost seems
                                                         That we've realized our dreams;
                                                         The voice of Eugene has spoken:
                                                         The old camping ban
                                                         Was a most foolish plan--
                                                         And now it's been partially broken.

                                                         But the homeless out here
                                                         Are still living in fear
                                                         Of visits from ignorant cops.
                                                         We're doing our best,
                                                         But we won't really rest
                                                         'Till all the harassment stops.

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