That Skyline…



That skyline

that beautiful skyline

with me in my dreams

as I sleep on this island

where the tallest building

is the church…

I don’t miss the pollution,

the crowded buses

and subway cars,

the potholes

and the masses of people

on auto-pilot

in business suits

crossing through Dewey Square

to jobs they think matter,

with titles

that make them feel important,

walking past a grizzly-looking god

on their way back from lunch,

refusing to look down

for fear of making eye contact

with another,

with their brother,

with humanity,

with the universe,

with god…

as he sits there

looking homeless

in his worn out

thrift store clothing

and faded Red Sox hat

holding the Globe

in his dirty hands,

he’s not looking for a handout

he’s dying for conversation

as he’s crying inside

about the state of the world

that he knows first hand,

and that he just read about

again in the paper

that a business man left

on a park bench

in Government Center

earlier in the day,

which god spotted

as he sipped

his watered down government coffee

as he started

to make his way

to the Green-way,

because he loves to sit in the grass

and watch the people

as they pass by,

even as they

ignore him.

You see,

god’s not homeless,

he lives with other Vietnam vets,

and a whole bunch

of these kids

getting younger and younger

by the day,

in that shelter

there on Court Street,

just below that beautiful


just out of sight

and out of mind

of the tourists

at Quincy Market,

and the people on auto-pilot

in the financial district

walking through Dewey Square

and back from lunch

in their business suits,

doing all they can

to avoid making eye contact

with god,

with humanity,

with themselves…

but, all that aside…

that skyline,

that beautiful skyline…

I miss that,

and I miss my conversations with god.

About soitgoes1984

I was born and raised on land stolen from the Pocumtuc. I now live on a small island in the middle of the Pacific ocean, on land that was stolen more recently, from the Hawaiians. I am addict, struggling to kick the habit of fossil fuel. This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License.
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