It's hard to understand, unless
you've been there.
There is a pull to the streets.
I can't count how many dead
end jobs I've held—how many roach
infested rooms I've
crashed in.
The inevitable day comes when
I tell the boss, 'Fuck You, I don't need this shit! '
I walk out into the misty
afternoon—I look left, then right.
I drowned out thoughts of the future with
a cheap pint of vodka.
I see one eye George on my travails,
he's half-lit—living in the woods.
'Don't let the bastards get you down.' He says, as he
stumbles by bent, and taking a standing eight count.
Mickey the midget stops me a
block from my flop-house.
'Tommy boy, I'm sick…gotta a couple of bucks so
an old drunk can get well? '
I slip him a five.
He says with a tear in his eye,
'God bless you Tommy—you know I
had it all, I'm afraid the
streets own me now.'
'Keep your chin up' I say as
I plummet down the
street, pretending
tomorrow is a decade away.
I climb the three flights of
stairs to my room,
slip the key in the lock,
turn the knob—it opens.
'I love these little miracles' I say under
my breadth.
My three-legged cat Walter saunters up to
me—he's white with marmalade splotches.
He does his best to rub up against
my leg—I pet his matted fur.
I passed out in an alley one
night, and woke up to Walter lying next to me.
I think something crawled into
my ear and made a home,
it's been there ever since.
I crash down on my chair,
and watch Walter scratch at
the door with his one front leg.
He hasn't been neutered—he gets the
pull of the streets.
I let him out and take a long swig of
the vodka—the potion does its magic.
Life doesn't look so bad,
there will be other jobs, and I still have
two weeks left in this
dump of a room.
A writer needs four walls—yet there is
always
the pull of the streets.
-
Author:
Thomas W Case (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: January 21st, 2025 14:31
- Comment from author about the poem: Brand new poetry video on my you tube channel (one of my better ones) Music by Tom Waits.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 21
- Users favorite of this poem: Teddy.15, Cassie58, Tristan Robert Lange, Cheeky Missy
Offline)
Comments9
A tale of the hard life and it setteling in. The imagery is very well dond as is the style of jargon. Nicely done
Thanks.
Such an honest poem about reality of a world that is often misunderstood, great write.
Thank you so much.
You're very welcome
Your imagery has come to life, Walter has come to life with all 3 legs, there is something truly magical about your poetry dear Thomas. Love every stanza. 🌹
Thank you, sweet Teddy.
Describes such a hard way of living. I found it touching how your cat found you in the alley and curled up with you. Animals just make you feel loved when everything else is shite. Enjoyed the read Thomas.
Thank you, Cassie.
Powerful write TWC 🙏🏻👍🏻🕊
Thanks.
Wonderful poem, Thomas!
Thank you.
A haunting account of the harsh reality of life for many people, well written
Thank you so much.
You are very welcome
Besides being exquisitely eloquent herein, I almost crazily think you're reminiscent of O. Henry's work, yet not. Superbly rendered with excellent imagery and a haunting poignancy, I love how this takes the reader in hand until we're vicariously the speaker, feeling and tasting every single thing. Thank you very much for sharing.
Thank you so much, I hope you check out the video on you tube.
Grovelled in the grueling grot... A well painted picture..
Thank you, my friend.
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