Surviving the Street

my name is joe

(if yer asking -

which you ain’t)

although that’s not my name

but one i’ve always thought

could fit me

as an endangered urban tortoise

whose home rat-clatters

as it scutters along the high street 

discount

my stains and my rips

down-and-out chic 

gift wraped in this season’s black plastic 

the colour of passing

stuffed inside 

a wire cage tesco screambucket 

on maladroit wheels

incarcerating one dissipated bag full

of the tatters of yesterdays

and one bag overflowing with wild

debris of deflated bright wonder

that once shone in a child eye galaxy

squint

the grime that dresses me

depresses me

two bin bag joe off his trolley 

forcing screambucket to cross hexed

cracks in the pavement through 

puddled reflections 

of fractured neon attractions

look away

drowned in the sound of traffic

a peripheral smudge 

an illusion 

quick step >escape >too late

i’m in yer face / rank breath

spare a quid for a cuppa mate

-P.A Levy