HOMELESS

It started well before birth in the stygian depths, fetid dank moistness, of our mothers’ wombs. A self projected on us prior to conception by the abject dysfunctional behaviours of our parents and past generations. Spewed forth from the dark crevasse between our mothers’ legs we grew up fast, tormented by the misbegotten memories of incessant generational abuse and neglect. Hidden away in murky corners of basements and closets we escaped into the twilight gloom of dimly lit streets and alleyways. Sleeping in shadowy alcoves, desolate corridors, refuse and needle strewn rooms of long deserted buildings haunted by the ghosts of those gone before us. Abandoned we walk the night. Eyes glazed, legs, cheeks, and mouths wide, we take in the disease-ridden jism from the corrupt underbelly of the cold dark unforgiving city.

* And We Dream! *


Gordon W. Fuller, April 11/2002