Occupying Sherman Street by Sissy Buckles

So there’s two more guys living in their cars right on Sherman Street that leads to my work I saw one this morning in his late model truck cab-over,sitting upright in the driver’s seat squirming in restless sleep, uncomfortable in the hot sun at 9:00AM; the other living in a shitty older van but still, his own shelter from the storm newspaper covering windows in back he even sweeps the sidewalk where the double doors open up, along with five or more RV’s that live right on Sherman Street, rotating curb space every 48 hours so the cops don’t bust them, and keep close to the storage center next door to my gov job in the warehouse district, containing all their worldly goods…and this is Point Loma, home to Nazarene University, theologians and debutantes,and military facilities SPAWAR the top retired Admirals and Colonel’s and their lush seaside homes wide streets flanked with palm trees and our old hippie haven Ocean Beach, once called the 3rd Haight at the end of the pier, dog beach and smokeshop The Black where I still buy my incense you can smell the sapphire ocean on days with an off-shore breeze…

and I drive down to sit by the sand for lunch to calm my restless mind and pass the homeless in groups or alone on every street corner and intersection stained hands held out in a timeless way but with handmade signs – “I served our Country – Please help”  “Will work for Food” “I have nothing, anything helps” and these  days of recession family and friends losing their jobs/homes, so I try to heed the dire warnings of the money experts on TV,swallowing down panic, and save/pay down the credit and just use my debit card for stuff I need but still, carry some quarters a little extra weight in my pockets to remind me.

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