Professor’s Walk For Ted Wright Don’t fuck with me, I’ve got a gun, said the homeless man to the professor who, wandering a patch of desert scrub, saw the black snub pointing at him. Considering his options, whether wit was in order here, either blandishment or rodomontade, perhaps a Shakespeare quote chucked deftly in, he inched back warily, divining in a quick critical reading — the unshaved man, the anus […]
Charles Halsted | Same species
His supplicant hands clasped as in prayer, head fully hooded, face barely seen, a thin pinkish blanket over his back, he’s barely protected from winter cold, invisible to the disdainful suits ten feet away who march with fixed purpose, carefully avoid even a sideways glance toward this hopeless, helpless specimen, same species, but not their kind. The solid steel bucket sits two feet away, possibly stolen, most likely lined with […]
J. Weintraub | Mr. Ledbetter misses his stop
When Mr. Ledbetter staggered into our southbound Red Line train and announced for anyone aboard to hear, “I want to get off at Harrison, somebody let me know when we get to Harrison,” I had a pretty good idea where he was headed. Standing on South State Street between Harrison and Polk, the Pacific Garden Mission had ministered to the needs of Chicago’s down-and-out and destitute for over eighty years […]
Joe Cottonwood | Homeless encampment
Excuse me, sir, but did you once sixty years ago come upon three cub scouts in blue uniforms wandering lost in a small forest hearing bears in the underbrush, vultures in the sky and you guided us to daylight where no one had missed us? Oh. Well, anyway, let me give you a beer. Pardon me, ma’am, but did you once substitute-teach a high school English class the subject was […]
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