Wiping My Ass
Apr 6, 2022
It’s Sunday evening here at a hostel off Melrose and Vermont.
I had some change. It was time to get off the street. I’m not going to let her win.
It’s 9:30. I want to eat.
Some black twenty somethings from Atlanta are fussing it up in the dining room.
No one is wearing masks in the kitchen.
As I put a pan on the stove to heat up cheap Hormel chili,
A young man comes from out of nowhere and says to me smiling.
“You’re a shaman!”
His eyes are wild with spirit.
I wonder if he will ever come down and what will happen to him when he does.
His words were so quick and direct that I think, “Is this a message from God?”
“I may be” I reply. “But I still have to wipe my ass like every body else”
