This is a poem I mentally started when I was in Los Angeles for AWP. Humanity I spot him as I get on the subway, All in black, with a black hat. He sits hunched over, as if sleeping. He doesn’t look asleep; he looks threatening. He’s dressed like a fighter, or a cowboy.
Have a little grace. Today I was wounded by an online implication that human beings in poverty are animals (thanks, Facebook). I almost immediately stumbled on an article about nine women who have dedicated hundreds of thousands of hours and dollars to anonymously helping people in need and random strangers, reminding them that they are