Bitchez Brew III– Rusting in the Truck featuring ML Heath

Poetry of ML Heath

POEM FOR HAITI RELIEF by ML Heath

Today
greasy rain pisses down
these inclined streets
cascading into the scurrying dissatisfied
San Francisco downtown.

This won’t help the homeless.
This won’t help the helpless.

Everybody hurts now in Haiti,
yet bone china bone idol karaoke
won’t help either.

So allow yourselves a backpat,
overfed celebrity scum.

Those you attempt to aid
are already far too after-shocked
and numb.

2/4/10
S.F.

From room eight at the Albert by ML Heath

Knowing not where my next meal will
come from
I cast my last crumbs of bread on
the water
Knowing not how I will make my
next dollar
I pick up a penny on the street for
good luck
Knowing not what way I can hit my
highest note
I sing in the subway hoping someone will
see or care
Knowing not what will arouse my
deepest desires
I lower my trousers and continue to pump
quarters into slots
Knowing not who will ever allot me my highest
regard
I pick up this pen and write another damned
word

1/3/02
Albert Hotel, Mission District, San Francisco