on working on the homelessness project

1.
he sits squat on the box,
a bearded budgie, he
could be a subject for some
old expressionist
 
lost his voice
to cancer, excised box
took all his words. to the
question of wants
 
he whispers
                      want my voice back
 
a picture of himself
- his first ever -
gift from the sweet-faced
photographer, who captured
the gentle eyes
 
till that park night
under the story bridge
when some young punks
kicked him to death
 
who mourns now?
we artists
in our warm beds?

2.
young kid
chroming
with old juice bottle
of petrol
 
trans
life, trans-
vestite
fourteen
and already
out of sight
 
sleeps
under the bushes
for some safe
haven
 
sleeps
and looks
as he really is
- lost baby

3.
to make a difference
to kick some arse
to have the message
watered like cheap beer
bureaucracy's farce
‘we will be seen to ...' concerned words
and grey images
fade as besuited
office workers
pass.