The refuge of female habitation
It's 3:00 a.m.
On a Wednesday
I wake up to rain
On my face
There are leaks
On our roof
The Chilean maintenance guy
Comes every now and then
And "fixes" them
I walk around the loft
Placing towels
On top of books
I start to think
About the homeless
In the streets of NYC
In particular
The one
Who has recently
Been evicted
And has settled himself
Under the Williamsburg bridge
He has his mattress
Two night tables
Books on top
Of the night tables
A rug
He must be soaking wet
His bed
His tables
His books
Wet
At this very moment
While I just had to move my head
To the bottom of my bed
There are so many
Who can't do anything
But wait for the morning
For the rain to stop
For the sun
My heart beats fast
I feel deep empathy
But in a few minutes
I'll close my eyes
Go back to sleep
And will wake up
Drowned in the worries
Of my own life
Selfishly
Like an animal in her cave
An ostrich with her head
Buried in the dirt
Don't we all kind of just look away?