20160326 (homeless)

Tom and Huck--when homelessnes was an adventure

Tony, my pet sitter, lives in a one

Room place probably no more than

Twelve feet on a side—no upstairs,

No downstairs—one hundred and 

Forty-four square feet. As small 

As that seems it’s a far cry from 

When he was homeless and had

No square feet to call his own.

He often visits schools to tell

Youngsters what it was like 

Being homeless in Cleveland. 

Sad to say, to a youngster who

May recently have read Tom

Sawyer or Huckleberry Finn

The romance of living free in

Open spaces may have taken

On a totally new light from

Mr. Twain’s delightful tales.

But real twenty-first century

Homelessness comes with a

Vulnerability unknown to the

River vagabonds for whom

The banks of the Mississippi

In young America did not

Hold druggies, thugs, and 

Crazies as our streets do

Now. I did some pretty 

Dangerous things in my teens

Which I did not allow my kids

To do when they grew up.

What they risked on their 

Own I’ll wait to hear when 

A spare hour pops up for us

Some day in the hereafter. 

Don’t bother telling me now;

I’m sure I’d go the rest of the

Way to crazy. Peter often got

Up in the middle of the night,

Wandered walking, even stole

My keys and drove off to drink

Or smoke with his buds in

Euclid Creek Park, or in some

Empty mall lot. I remember 

Being awakened by the Heights

Police about 1:30 AM who asked

If I knew where my son, Peter,

Was. “Upstairs in bed,” I replied

Groggily. “Could you check for

Us?” they asked. Sure enough Pete

Was gone. “We’re pretty sure he’s

With us,” they clarified. “How 

about keeping him until the 

Morning?” I queried. “We’d rather

You pick him up as soon as you

Can.” Within the next year we’d

Kicked him out, taking him

Down to Safe Space (a drop-in

Center for runaways) near 

Lakeview Cemetery. Peter,

True to form ran away from

Them at the first opportunity

And spent the night in an

Abandoned car parked in the 

Christian Science Church 

Parking lot about six houses

South of our place on Lee

Road. Then, during the day

While Jean and I were at

Work, he’d sneak into our

House, eat breakfast, watch 

TV, and hit the streets before

We came home. I found him

There one morning as I 

Checked the lot rather than 

Go directly to work—dirty,

Unshaven, likely crawling

With bugs, just as ratty as

The wreck was inside. I

Think I drove him back to 

Safe Space and told him

To clean up and we’d talk

Later. If people asked whether

I ever had any direct knowledge 

Of the lives of the homeless

I had to say yes: I made someone

Homeless. Funny, I missed 

My meds and dreamed of him

Last night.

c. J.S.Manista, 2016