Objectophilia

by Dan Hoeweler

To my quad-processing binary

Turing machine,

To my machine language

Interpreter,

To My discrete algorithm

 Analyzer,

To my multi-thread

Processing module,

Your cache

Your chassis

Your solid state drive

Your motherboard

Electrify my cerebral pathways

In ways that no programming language

Can express.

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Drunk in the Dark

There is no limit to the depth a man may fall

Listen to the man laying on the floor defeated

For he has wisdom to share

And a story to tell

Misery is intoxicating

A shadow so dark

Cast by a bright red sun

Ever present, forever constant

Blanketing me with grief

Bedding me in pain

A pauper rich only in emotions

Until there is no more,

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Eric ‘E-Tee’ in Memoriam

We are devastated to learn about the loss of Eric E-Tee, a longtime Street Sheet vendor beloved by many. Eric, known to many as E-Tee, lived here in San Francisco since he was 27 years old. E-Tee sold the Street Sheet since 1989, when it was only one sheet of paper. He usually sold the paper outside of Peet’s Coffee on the corner of Van Ness and Turk, wearing his distinctive gray fedora.

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In April

Sunlight through a cloud 

Bleaches the bones of  

Something small,  

And long forgotten. 

Reflecting on a  

Silver strand in 

My dark hair,  

While a cruel wind  

Masks as warmth. 

So many lives 

I have lived,  

So much happiness 

I have feigned 

In the month  

Of dust and lies. 

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I’m Ready!!!

I’m ready for something new, with someone that’s true. I’m ready for you. I’m ready to make a change, and do new things, yes my love, I’m ready to get back in the game. I’m ready to make a new friend and to make plans to dance, romance, and together we can build finance. I’m to love and be loved, so I can love you, hug you, kiss you, squeeze you, and also please you,

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Crazy, Mixed-up World

Street Sheet vendor Tariq Johnson stands in the Coalition on Homelessness office wearing his vendor badge on a landyard and grinning.

Let’s look at how it all began

Because nobody knows how it’s gonna end

So let’s strive to do the best we can

In this crazy, mixed-up world we live in

God is my witness and my best friend

In this crazy, mixed-up world we live in

I gotta breathe and be grateful for every breath

Because the only thing promised in life is death

We have to struggle to survive,

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Poetry

I Had a Dream

To make it come true,

When I wake up,

To feel good

It was a matter of time

When I made her be mine

To live and give all her love to me,

To make me happy for the day

To stop and say

That I wanted to lover her in my dream

But now I’m here

To have you near

So you could hear me

To say to you

That I really love you,

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Lying Down and Waking Up a Slave in Texas

It’s poetic…

In Texas, we’re trapped in pits with small widdows.

Inside these cells, we’re funding our own imprisonment;

the chains are encrypted inside the chips and soup sales.

We’re inside of an identity crisis believing our souls out of favors,

So we accept the chains;

believing a greater change will come save us…

Can you dig that?!?!

I guess that Willie Lynch Syndrome dies hard in some places.

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Behavioral Health

(In memory of Luis Temaj Tomas)

I

On Tuesday, October 12, 2021

TV news announced

That a homeless man

Had died from his burns

He had been sleeping 

In his sleeping bag

The previous Friday 

When someone set his

Sleeping bag on fire

At 25th street and South Van Ness

In the Mission neighborhood

In San Francisco’s Latinx neighborhood

He was Latinx.

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Side Notes

The manner in which the hours of freedom.. 

are spent determines, no less than labor or war, the moral worth of a nation.” 

— Maurice Maeterlinck 

Little Miss Muffet

Sat on her tuffet

Smoking a bowl in the dark

Along came a ranger, 

Took her weed and detained her 

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