Joe Norman

Posted bylou rasmusPosted inPoemsTags:, , , , ,

Feeling lonely,
I walk the streets
and find a homeless man
to talk to.
He just pissed himself
and he’s wearing a
garbage bag as a poncho.
He says that his name is Joe Norman.
He lost his wife and kids
in a car accident
years ago,
and then basically gave up
on everything and started
wandering the streets,
lost, hungry,
and not seeing the point
in doing anything
any differently.
He asks if I have a
dollar to spare.
I give him a dollar.
But when I open my wallet
he sees that I have more money
than just a dollar,
and he asks if I can spare
anything else.
I shrug and give him
a couple more dollars.
He tells me more about
the accident his family was in.
He sheds a tear.
And I give him everything else
that I have.
He says, “God bless.”
I say, “you’re welcome.”
And then I go home
and get in my bed,
and out through my window
I see that fucking guy
get in a car with a woman
and two kids.

DEAD RED FISH

Published by lou rasmus

Lou Rasmus is an independent author from Chicago, IL. His works are largely focused on exploring the meaning of life – or lack thereof – while the themes of love, relationships, and self-loathing are also central to many of his stories. His upcoming novel, Primrose Isle, will be his third self-published title. Grapefruit Juice, a collection of bitter poems and short stories, and DEAD RED FISH, his semi-autobiographical debut novel about a young man coming to age on a road trip with his childhood friends, are also available on Amazon.

37 thoughts on “Joe Norman”

  1. Lol. Can I laugh?

    Life doesn’t seem to be meant to be for the honest.

    So sad….. but so sad it’s funny. Right? No one got harmed. You lost a few bucks. Not everyone is like that. Don’t let it jade you.

    Liked by 3 people

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  4. Pingback: Joe Norman — lou rasmus | hands in the garden

  6. I loved that you started walking then talking to a homeless man. Says a lot about you.
    It’s too bad people like that make it harder for others in real need.
    But you were kind. Don’t regret that. 🙂

    Liked by 2 people

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  8. ohmyfuckinggod Lou. You’re the man, you know that? THE fucking man. The fucking man who gets fucked. Damn it! I’d smoke a bowl, roll over, and write a poem about it, if I were y— oh, wait… ha!

    Liked by 1 person

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  13. Are there no prisons?
    Are there no workhouses?

    The Good Book
    would have you believe
    the next beggar you meet
    might be the
    Master
    come at an unexpected
    hour.
    Priests will tell you
    the way you live
    may
    be the only vision
    of the Good Book
    some people
    will ever see.
    Mother Teresa?
    She knew
    that you can give and sing,
    pray…
    and the world is still a
    shithole of misery.
    It’s your money.
    One on one,
    judgement call.
    Maybe
    the kids were hungry.
    But.
    The dudes on the corner
    in better clothes
    than mine?
    They can blow me.
    I’ve been told
    those clothes
    are castoffs, donations.
    Where’s the line form
    for for free $140
    Nikes?
    Because I am so
    there.

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

  15. Man you made me laugh. Needed a laugh! He spun you a story much like an author does 😆
    I try not to give $ only food & occasionally backpacks with essentials. One time I felt really bad for this elderly hunchback man so I not only have him a few bars but a few bills as well.
    In the time it took to walk a couple parking spaces and look back the hunchback had miraculously recovered enough to disappear into air!

    Liked by 1 person

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  16. compassion is a two way street where you are often fucked…. do you care or do you tell them to be like you… work your ass off for something that means so little or everything…. humanity a puzzle with so resolution… save the world… watch it burn… who are you to stand by the ashes?…

    Liked by 1 person

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