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The poems

Made by Teresa Marrin
© 2010-2012

shelter

So let me get this straight
The new BMW dealership
On the west end of town
The rich end
Has all its cars
In an indoor heated parking ramp
But there are 300 people
Sleeping on the streets
In the cold tonight
And hundreds more
Breaking down the doors
Of the shelters
8,000 a year, they say
So … the cars are indoors
In heated space
And the people
OK -- little kids -- does that bother you?
Are out in the cold
And I know
If you’re lucky enough
To strike it rich
You get a BMW
But if you’re a worthless loser
You’re supposed to pay for it
I guess
Still ….
What is wrong with this picture?