When Hope fails We rely on friends When friends fail we rely on family Both of these things are very different to me When family fails We rely on ourselves And when we fail We rely on teachers And when teachers fail We fail and then When we fail We die Whether by suicide or lack of love Or a broken heart When we fail sometimes We are torn apart

I began busking 10 years ago and still am busking to this very day I’ve been busking so long that I remember when happy was synonymous with gay I am now 40 years old and I still busk in the streets I I beg and busk at the people’s feet’s Sometimes my tip basket is full Sometimes it is empty But I love all for love there is plenty I used to write women poetry But then my love broke up with me So I convinced a local girl to fall in love with thee Now I am broke as a California wild fire tree I have finally saved up enough money from busking I think I’ll have enough to marry my love I think I’ll have enough for husking.

I am the queen married to the king The first night we were to be married he escorted me to his bed He closed the curtain and a man stood outside of the closed curtain It felt weird knowing there was another soul privy to our love The king caressed me and pulled off my dress layer by cumbersome layer. We were experienced and the whole kingdom called him the Royal Player When we were done we walked outside only to find the Royal Watcher outside our bedroom stroking his shaft and moaning in the king’s chair. “You lustful beast put your clothes back on. We will discuss this later.” “You majesty this job turns me on. There is nothing wrong with pleasure.” “You shall be beheaded.” “As you wish your majesty, Then I shall die a happy and satisfied man.” When the sentence was set to happen the local town butcher pulled out his most sharp cleaver. Said drop trough sir And proceeded to hold the man’s now titilated member and chop off the man’s manhood. The former Royal Watcher bled and dropped to his knees. The king approached and said this is what you get for these and held the man’s member up for all to see. The crowd applauded assuming he’d done something terrible. Women and children clapping WHo knew right from wrong. And suddenly a child spoke inquiring what he had done wrong The king knelt down and said my dear child don’t you see This man is a harlot to me and my bride to be. The child not concerned said love is love this man is unjust fully a eunuch Children know more then and they also know more now. Children are more caring than most adults and have way more compassion. The man made a mistake can’t you compromise or at least give him a warning the child went on

On September 15th 1998. I met one of the inmates in Riker’s. He didn’t deserve to be in Riker’s. What he had done was petty theft. He had stolen a pair of Nike’s from Macy’s in The Bronx . His defense was that he had given him to the homeless man who lived on the street. Later it came out in court that he had tried to buy them for the man but the lady behind the checkout counter had called security on him as soon as he gave her his credit card. He then ran out of the store and delivered the shoes to the homeless man. They had countless witnesses in this man’s favor to corroborate his story, but as it goes jury selection is often not representative of the suspect in question. His name is De’andre Montgomery but the prison guards call him 5483. “Alright! 5483 get back in your cell.” “Alright man I’m going. I still say I’m innocent!” “There’s a man here to see you. He says he’s a lawyer. I think he’s your boyfriend.” The guard speculated slimily. “Man shut up. I called him. I got a girlfriend Tenisha just waiting for me back at home.” “Depends how long you’re in here for.” De’andre Montgomery trudged up the long staircase leading to his tiny cell. “Hey man you made it.” De’andre Montgomery slapped me five. “I came as soon as you called. Deandre I think you’re a heck of a guy and I think you were just trying to do the right thing.” “I was man, I was just trying to give my fellow man on the streets some shoes. There’s glass and shit on the street in the Bronx man. Broken glass every where people pissing in the streets you know they just don’t care.”Deandre Montgomery could have had a successful career in rap if the guards in Riker’s were at all merciful. I had met him seven other times and he had rapped while we were talking about what his defense was going to be. Back to the main point of my story because all of what he could’ve been was trivial. The fact was he was in Riker’s and he was going to be until I could get him acquitted. The year was 2001. He had been in prison for 3 years. “George, I seen some shit since I been in here. I overheard the guards talking about Y2K a few years back. They said they didn’t know how the computers were gonna update when the year turned 2000. They said the world was gonna end George. I was freaking out.” “That sounds very traumatic. We only have five minutes left. So I would like to over our defense on what happened and your motives behind stealing the shoes.” I noticed the guards were pointing to their watches holding up 5 fingers. In prison speak this was code. “I told you man. I’m comfortable serving my sentence for stealing the Nike’s.”

Doesn’t matter if you work hard at your job Doesn’t matter if you work like a slob It’s all the up to the employer Better not annoy him or her If you have a job Don’t screw it up People who live with their parents Get a stigma attached But everyone does it now if they are laid off. Because how are you gonna make money if you don’t have a job And how are you pay rent on your apartment Don’t tell these people to get a job you slob Don’t tell anyone to pull themselves up by the bootstraps Listen to the points in my raps Look at me I got degree I can barely hold a job the most I could handle is barely 3 It’s not easy to find work here as a teacher I’m not willing to be a preacher Maybe I should move to Denmark or Hawaii Because If I lose another job I have no more tears left to cry.

I think I just met the happiest person in the world. As they walked past me I asked them “Excuse Me sir Why are you so happy?” “They replied I just got laid, promoted and I won an award all on the same day.” It was the worst day of my life. I couldn’t find anyone to love me, I got fired, and no one knew my talents so I definitely wasn’t getting any awards.
Regardless I kept walking to an uncertain future, maybe something will happen today maybe something will happen to me. If you don’t carry on you’ll never know.

It was supposed to be a sanctuary. A monument to the new world or the future. But that was all propaganda to ease the public’s concern and distress. Prisons had been supposedly updated to accommodate inmates. I know as well as any good journalist does that this is not the case. You see I was imprisoned for writing a story about how the President had gone mad and appeared to be in bad health. The first day of my arrest the guards threw me against a wall and stripped me naked. When I tried to protest against them tearing my clothes off the guard hit me with his baton, all the while I remained conscious. I was mortified as they hosed me down on an elevated floor, with the shower, buck naked and exposed.

There used to be a house on the lake but then that house got demolished by a hurricane. The government had the house torn down because some kids went exploring and fell through the floor and drowned. The house was deemed unsafe and marked with big red threatening letters so that all new not to go in unless they planned to die in the house. People steered clear and eventually on March 15 of 1968 it was demolished. Then in the 70’s a dead body was pulled out of the lake of a young man that had been going to see Scott Barkley, the local priest, and staying pretty late, sometimes through the night. The case had gone cold until the 1990’s when a detective declared Scott Barkley had mutilated and performed lewd acts on the boy. Scott Barkley was famous in this town. He was a priest that everyone held in high regard. If you had a problem you went to Scott Barkley for help and everyone came back 100% better, that is, until Billy McIntosh. Billy had claimed that Scott molested him and forced Billy to perform lewd acts on him. He was underage, 10 at the time. Scott Barkley was never sentenced until his mother got in the detective’s face. He was almost acquitted. Some of the most terrifying persons can be disguised in plain sight as the nicest people in the community. I often wonder if the boy they pulled out of the river was going to tell what Scott did to him, if anything, Who knows how many boys Scott Barkley molested and possibly raped. The good thing is he is in prison now and can’t hurt any of the boys anymore.

I stood over the body. The police and my team had been called to the scene fairly early in the morning. The boy on the ground was 20 years old and wore glasses. I looked closely and examined his wrist. He had cut deep horizontal lines into his wrist, a cry for attention. While examining his wrist, and I had almost missed I noticed a bullet hole in his chest. The boy had shot himself and slashed his wrist? Then I realized what was going on here. This wasn’t a suicide. This was a murder. We were looking at a boy who had been killed in cold blood. “This isn’t a suicide. See the bullet hole in his chest?” I said “Yeah, I’m perplexed. How did he get the slashes on the wrist.” “Maybe, it was a prior injury.” “You might be right about that.” Diaz phoned the chief of police. “Roberts, uhh yeah we noticed a bullet hole in addition to cuts on the wrist we are ruling this as a murder.” “Well you’re not autospy analysts so make sure to get it to an actual expert.” “Sure thing boss.” Diaz turned to me. “Woo What crawled up his butt?” Chief Roberts had had a long standing feud with Diaz. Officer Diaz had beat him out for the Citizenship award at police academy. Just then we saw a man go riding by on his bike. We raced outside and shouted hey which made him stop. “Hi do you know the man in that house over there?” “That’s Mr. Stevens.” “We’re investigating a murder-“ I shot Diaz a very critical look and he cleared his throat. “We’re investigating a suicide in that house over there.” “Mr Stevens is dead? So that’s what the smell coming from the house is. I was just on my way over to the police department to report a strange smell coming from that house.” “Could we have your name sir?” “Of course it’s Jerry. Jerry Adliner.” “Did you know Mr. Stevens?” Diaz asked “Yep. We went to AA together. I had no idea he was depressed.” “Often times people who are depressed are very good at hiding it.” “Well I hope you find out what happened.” Jerry got back on his bike flipped the kickstand up and then pedaled away. “Did it seem weird to you that he said he hopes we find out what happened?” “No why?” “Usually in cases ruled as suicide the situation is pretty clear.” Diaz dialed the police detective. “Uhh chief I think we found a suspect.” “But you haven’t even gotten an autopsy report or an official ruling from a coroner yet. Go to the coroner’s office.” We went to the coroner’s office. “Yep it was a murder. There is no way he could have done both of these injuries without one killing him first.” We managed to track down through GPS from the police station our suspect on wheels. We arrested him and brought him to the station.

In the night A coyote howls Fresh from a kill Howls at the moon high off of pure thrill Two lovers in a cafe kiss over their burger and fries They have escaped studies and strict teacher’s for one night. They have escaped their parents fight. A cat prowls slowly in the distance in pursuit of a mouse And then quickly disappears into the hedge or it’s house The moon is bright and the stars are out They shine for it is dark all about. With night the smoke and city smog disappears It smells of rain once again As opposed to daylight when it smells of smoke and ash once again.