Fear of Poverty

In the Mission district, fear of poverty puffs me up, as I blow like a paper cup from curb to sidewalk, under the soles of the poor. They gather in a yellow light, against clinging brick and cluttered street, and measure a kind of home, filled with the smoke and trash that expand their lives. In the comforting sameness of discomfort, limiting and limitless, is their poverty, which they can’t afford to fear. 14 September 1984

Remove Protective Seal Pull Out Spout and Pour