Broadway Avenue Panhandler
by Annette Gagliardi
Misery gazed through beer-stained blur,
Despair in faded jeans;
enslaved by his habit, his outstretched claw
beseeched me donate to his cause.
A ghost begged another ride on his addiction.
His wretchedness reached out and slapped me lonely;
the squalid secrets of his torment
displayed like a porno movie.
An apparition of journey’s end,
the destination of choices not chosen.
His shabby figure beckons me consider –
Where is my port of call?
He shuffled his approach with eyes lurking despondent,
reached out shabby sleeves to accept my oblation
then clutching the prize to his chest
two-stepped back to his prerogative.
Broadway Avenue Panhandler, Won 3rd place National Prize in Eber & Wein Publishing 2010.
Published in “Eternal Heartland: Interstate 20”, John T. Eber, St. Managing Editor, Ever & Wein Publishing, 2010. Published in “Today’s Best Poets”, 2013. Betty Cummins Starr-Joyal Editor & Publisher, Poetry Fest Press.Published in “Editor’s Choice Award” 2013, Poetry Fest Press. Published in The Moccasin, Vol LXXXI, LOMP, 2018.
Some days, a warm cup of coffee is a real blessing.
Yesterday, as I was driving to school to pick up my grandson, I spotted the homeless lady who frequents our neighborhood. She was at the corner of Nicolett and 46th street. Usually there is some sign of her, there. She has a large pack pack/garbage bag pack that is often chained to the bike racks on 46th. Sometimes she is at the bus stop or sitting in the grass along the boulevard.
Sometimes I stop and chat with her – her name is Kathryn. I sometimes (not often enough) give her water, coffee, cocoa, a sandwich or sweets. A few of the neighbors keep a watch out for her, still I wonder where she sleeps and how she manages her life.
Yesterday, I originally thought she was sitting on her large baggage. But as I got closer, I saw that she was sitting on one of those 5-gallon buckets we get from hardware stores -5 gallons of paint, plaster, etc. They are really useful after their original use.
Anyway, she was sitting on the 5-gallon bucket, her pants down to her thighs, using it as a toilet. A person would have to be paying attention to notice that her jeans were down. But, I wondered how she sat down and how she would get up without exposing some parts of herself.
And I was astounded by the absurdity of her toileting there on the public thoroughfare just outside of two business places that have indoor toilets. My compassion meter registered in the high numbers. I searched my brain for solutions to her situation. And the sight of her has been in my thoughts still today.
After supper, I rode to yoga class with my neighbor who informed me more of Kathryn’s situation and that people had tried to get her into programs for the homeless, had tried in various ways to better her situation, but she always ends up back on the streets.
The Bible tells us that the poor are always with us. And I am wondering if that is a call – a challenge perhaps – for us to be more compassionate to those folks less fortunate than ourselves. Love thy neighbor as yourself, is another lesson from the Bible. I wondered how to do that. Seriously, if you have any tips, wisdom or advice, I’m all ears.
There is a residential lot that has been for sale/ sold/ taken back/ perhaps sold again at the end of my block. There is another empty lot next to the strip mall on Nicollet and I daily dream of winning the lottery so I could set up a tiny house community on those plots of land. I would put four to eight tiny houses on each lot. They would be three stories. The bottom story underground to house the laundry, furnace, electricity, etc. The main floor would have kitchen, living room & bathroom while the upstairs could hold two bedrooms. There are myriad ways to save space for storage. Using solar energy and a water gathering system would alleviate the cost of maintaining these homes, so those with a limited income might better afford them.
So, I’m talking about empty lots because if there was such an option for Kathryn, so close to where she hangs out, I would hope she could benefit from living in one of those houses.
On the other hand, she may well have a dwelling that shelters her at night and in inclement weather. The poor are always with us. She might just be the reminder that we more fortunate individuals need to be alert, to not get too cocky, to love all those we encounter, to have concern for the misfortune of others.
And one last thought. Whose to say Kathryn is not living her best life? Just because she doesn’t live in a nice house, collect her belongings in closets and cupboards, etc. doesn’t mean her life is less ideal than mine. The less you have, the more you can savor and enjoy this wonderful earth. I cannot measure other people’s circumstances against mine while feeling superior for my fortunate situation. Let this be a lesson – or two.
Note: The photos in this article have been taken from Upsplash and are free to use.
I walked up to Nicollet to get my hair cut this morning and stopped at the coffee shop on the way, as I had a half-hour wait. Just in front of the door to the coffee shop, a man lay on the sidewalk. He was not injured, but was begging for money. His was drinking a cup of Caribou coffee and when it was consumed, he got up and walked to the trash can to toss it, then went back to lying on the sidewalk.
The first thing that affronted me was that a person would humiliate themselves enough to lie on the sidewalk in broad daylight – well past time to get up. The second thing that affronted me was that his pants were buckled below his buttocks, so that his butt was exposed. It seemed like he pointed is rounded bottom at the casual passersby. I hate that particular style, but have come to understand it. The third thing, is that this person was in my way. I almost needed to step over him to get into the coffee shop. I greeted him and entered the establishment, refraining from asking them about the man.
Now, there are many resourced for the homeless here in Minneapolis and I donate to most of them. Jesus says the poor are always with us, yet he doesn’t dictate what to do about them. He also says, ‘love your neighbor as yourself’. Does that mean I should just buy two medium mochas and hand one to him? I actually have done that. I often share a coffee with another homeless person who hangs around the corner at 46th and Nicollet. Her name is Kathryn and she sleeps in the church nearby — at least, I think that’s where she sleeps. She is a familiar figure and moves around the several blocks in the area. But I have never seen her laying on the sidewalk. Does laying on the sidewalk constitute a new low for me?
A woman came into the shop as I was waiting for my coffee. She spoke to the man as she entered and I could see the uncertainty on her face. She felt like me. She had no cash on hand, had ordered ahead and was just picking up, wondered if she should give her breakfast to him or buy a beverage . . . . The indecision; the vacillation of what to do teetering from one action to another showed on her face and was just how I felt . . . I want to respond in a Christian way, but at times like this, I am unsure how to proceed. I walked up, so only had my coffee gift card in hand. Perhaps I could offer him a beverage, but I’d just seen him finish one, so . . .
I am left wondering where we allow/let/accept people begging. Do we limit them to the freeway entrance and exits? Do we make them stay in the inner city where most of the resources are? Which suburb ring do we stop their appearances? Am I biased to say, I don’t want to step over someone begging as I enter my coffee shop?