Daily Archives: April 10, 2013

“Might Listen” by Thom Amundsen

I go to your school
Yea, I'm that guy
The one you know
But choose to
I mean,
Granted you're busy
Too ah, caught up
In trying to get along
To achieve
To feel that sense
Of what is the word-
No, I'm sorry
I didn't mean that

Well, yes I did
You see
I see you everyday
But well,
I know
You see me

Paths cross
Moments define
The brush of a shoulder
Heading to class
And just that brief encounter
Thus far defines who you are to me
Who I am to you
Who might see...
I walk past you
How our lives interact
In the eyes of our community

Our worlds are labeled as different
Suggested the 'Man' to everyone

“Bully” by Thom Amundsen

I don't like you
You scare me
When you look happy
I feel threatened
I don't care about you
Just give me attention
When I hate you
People think I am happy
You understand right?
When I slap you it matters
You're my investment
I have to hurt you...

So I, uh, well I'm not ready
I won't apologize
For living this way
Not caring about you
I mean
I don't know how to
Any more
Than you know how to
Prevent me from
Treating you like a
Dis me
And I will slap you...

People watching
Need to know
I won't back down
Until you are crying
Until you recognize
The lies that you believe
Are simply the
The why
The lie is why
I want to feel strong
People like me
People choose me
I'm a safe bet

I'm an American boy

“Bus Stop Night” by Kevin Shanahan

Slouched over
Drunk, tired, depressed
The head nods as he moves from dream to life.
This is life at the bus station.

Dressed down women hiding their bodies,
As they go to and from work.
A million destinations,
A million broken dreams,
One woman in heels
Showing off her amazing ass.

Cops dressed in black,
Electric green vests.
Watch us,
As we watch them back.

Bad teeth,
Bad smells,
Bad hair,
Bad life.

The life of the bus stop early,
The life of the bus stop late,
The same smell of sadness,
And the look of despair.

Teenagers dealing,
Adults buying
Old man sells cigarettes
50 cents apiece.

Seeing me give one off for free,
Pulled to the side
Given a lesson without the bus
"You gotta know how we do things down here."

The homeless enter and never leave
Except at noon for lunch,
And four for the shelter.
Breathing alcohol locks you out
Of a bed.

Tortured lost souls searching
On the prowl for something.
Food, shelter, warmth, humanity.
The needs of the day in order.
You can lose your self-respect
For a sandwich
And sleep well,
If you get indoors.

Last bus leaves
Hungry huddled homeless

Walk languishly out together
Looking for a place
Looking for a store
Looking for salvation
Anything that gets through the night
Just one more night
'Til the buses leave the next day
Looking for a place to sit,
Slouched over
Drunk, tired, depressed,
Not having reached any stars.

“Sleepless” by Kevin Shanahan

On the ground
Surrounded by red hay
And needles
Trying to sleep

It's late
It's early
It's 11:30pm

Lie my head down
On my pack
Look at the stars
Close my eyes.

I'm freezing.

I shiver myself awake.
Must be 3
Maybe 4
The coldest part of the night.
It's 12:35

I need sleep
I need warmth
I get up, shake my legs
And smoke one more cigarette.

I stare at the stars
I shut my eyes.
I'm up again.
Too cold to sleep.

I pace.
I smoke
I hear sirens,
See them on the buildings side.

A strip mall
On the side, in a corner
Surrounded on two sides
By a brick wall
I hide behind 2 tall bushes.
I pace.
I shiver.
I try to get warm.

Lie back down
Hat on, scarf tight.
I left my gloves on the bus today.
It's very cold.

Back up
Wearing five long sleeve shirts,
A jacket
A scarf,
Long johns,
Still can't get sleep.

Lie down,
Stare at the stars.
Close my eyes.
Get up
Stars light my way out of here.

Go to my car.
Parked in a hotel parking lot
No heat.
It doesn't start.
Middle of the night,
People come
People go.

No rest,
No sleep
Gotta get out of here.
Gotta get out of this life.

Get out of car,
Wait for the bus.
Nowhere to go,
Maybe I'll get some sleep.