The Joneser [BUM]

The Joneser
Nadine Thomas-Brown




The moon dripped light, like wax from a candle
On the inert figure of a man long past his prime
He lay on a dingy, tattered piece of cardboard
in the thick darkness of a deserted gas station
contemplating that time
had tricked him into complacency
cajoled him into thinking
That he had forever to seek out his destiny.

Foolishly believing that his youth’s blush
would stay, he wasted time and libido
never really acknowledging the life he gave to countless others.
He consistently avoided responsibility, and pursued pipe dreams in crack houses , cracking up from some imaginary imaginings.
then abandoning the teachings of mater and pater found himself by the way side without f.a.m.i.l.y. and m.o.n.e.y. and wondered to himself why this shit was happening to him further and further he dug his grave prostituting his soul for the white lady letting go of who he was.
Reasoning abandoned interspersed with yearly flashes of why the fuck am I doing this to myself?
A question he could never answer because the dog eat dog mentality of the streets is far removed from this new reality of self preservation that is now the all pervading actuality of his situation.

Lyford Cay is now years away, no more money to burn.His friends have dried up and blown away
like the dust of his parents disappointed bones
a shadow of the man he could have been
now a cripple, a dirty joneser , a sad lesson to learn
wish he could flip a switch and make it ten years earlier
wishes regrets didn’t hurt like maggot filled sores
and as he sits in the dark watching the moon drip light on
the passing cars, homeward bound
tears like a meandering river slowly floods his unkempt, unwashed face.

* This poem was written for a buddy of mine after I interviewed him behind a dumpster of a gas station not so long ago. He teared up while revealing secrets he never told anyone, according to him.