Jesse’s dead, overdosed on pills. Jesse and me, we go way back. Me Desert Storm with the Shock and Awe air strikes, him Afghanistan and the suicide bombers. Jesse called me Old Man, since I was ten years his senior. Jesse was 23 when he passed. My eyes have been sweating all day. The paramedics found Jesse asleep on the grass near the shelter’s fountain. The empty bottle of pills beside him. Jesse and me, we had each other’s back for…..
Graciela’s Day Dear Friends of The Shelter, Today the Reverend Bentham let me bake bread. A week ago, he took me to the health department to make sure I was healthy and could work in the kitchen. The health department gave me a blood test for hepatitis and a chest X ray for tuberculosis. They even checked my poop for worms. You can bet I washed my hands more than once! Doc Manny, the house physician, trains us about hygiene…..
I started wondering if homelessness is not just about poverty and living on the streets. What if homelessness can also mean feeling rootless and detached from others, regardless of income and station in life. I can imagine someone with money walking past someone sleeping on a sidewalk. That scene, for me, evokes a poem of sorts. A Homeless Soul-An Epitaph Designer suit with tanned ostrich tie: A cheat-sheet for a mind, thin-skin for a heart. Forever swatting at flies. I…..
I’m a Vietnam War Veteran. I served as a Medical Corpsman from 1965-1966 because i do not want to be shooting anybody in Vietnam.
5 years ago, BroadwayWorld posted in their site a review about my book which was published that same month of the year. Like they said, my book is a compelling novel that you will surely enjoy.