Chuck Perrin

Concrete mattress
cinder block wall
cardboard blanket
broken shoelace
my old blue plastic tarp
and ripped roller suitcase
that holds everything I own
the streets are home
I know the hiding spots
where the wind can’t find you
the narrow nooks and overhangs
that shield the streetlight glare
I’ll find a place to sleep tonight
somewhere out there
I don’t owe nobody
I’m alone
b u t
I’m alive
and it feels good to be alive