Tell Me More Poetry by Nancy Duci Denofio

THE HOMELESS

Who will know their name?

Grapefruit shipped from Florida
lay gutted in someone’s trash -
summer heat - cockroaches
lay eggs – on top of tender white
juice. . .

The name of the dead found
dead yesterday – no one really
knows.

Army greens thrown inside a
bin disclosed for the homeless,
a lost pair of rosary beads dangles
from the metal flap – near
a parking lot, on Congress Street –
where someone died last night.

Lunch was tossed into a can
In front of D’Andriannos
Pizza joint – dinner – half eaten
Over flows onto the pavement
And, the nameless wait until
Daylight ends to empty trash.

When daylight shines between
cement – nameless lay curled
on top of grass – dirt – melting
snow.

The name of the dead – found
last night - no one knows.

Patrons of a boutique quickly
Walk on Congress, their eyes
Focus on cracks in cement –
Never seeing dirty skin, filthy
Clothes – a broken bottle of
Whiskey. . .

The name of the dead – found
In the morning – no one knows.

A young girl in hot pink tights
her leg’s spread, reads a book
resting on her knees, above
Her on red brick – graffiti –
Madonna twice. . .

Detectives question the young
girl in pink tights, she barely
lifts her head, or smiles – and
probably doesn’t read.
She shakes her head, no.
Another nameless will be laid
to rest – without a name on
granite, or mentioned in the
Press.

The nameless – no one knows
or do they give a damn.

Nancy Duci Denofio
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