My son lived in the Uptown area of Minneapolis a few years ago, before he moved to NY and a job with PBS. He inspired this poem, which I'm posting for Susan Budig (I greatly admire her work), who posted a video of her poem on youtube this morning, Corner of Juniper and Fourth.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ql3QqiURP9M
WAITIN' FOR THE BUS ON THE FOURTH OF JULY
So I'm waitin' for the bus at 4th & 28th
and this crazy dude rides up
on this crappy bike with one worthless gear,
prob'ly swiped from somebody's yard,
starts talkin' to me like we was acquaintances
but I never seen him before in my life.
He's tellin' me how his rent is due
and he's forty dollars short
so he tries sellin' his blood only they won't take it.
Then he shows me his arms,
all crusty with needle marks and oozy cuts.
His eyes is red and watery, face all puffy
an' he's hoppin' mad, shoutin' and flappin' around
like a real looney fool.
Finally he figures he'll try to sell his blood downtown,
says they're not as particular, and I'm like, right man . . .


Comments: 12
I've also thought about selling plasma for cash. I used to work in a plasma center, and it's a great way to earn money.
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