it is hard to be poor in a plastic society

CHAPTER 1
walking out of the door of big g's in A2 after making some purchases for class a lady approached me asking for money - she gave me an explanation of why she had no money and why she needed money - her speech was slurred and she assured this wasn't no game

i told her i only had a few bucks (4) but i would take her anywhere she needed and offered to take her into Kroger to purchase groceries with her but she did not like that idea

she put out her ciagarete and loaded into the car

she told me she was diabetic and that explained some of her behavior and indecision and sluggish nonverbal activity.

our journey the next 5-10 minutes only took us a few blocks here and there

we went to several stops in the neighborhood but she continued to want to move on someplace to look for solutions- i asked her if her sugar was low and she said yes - we pulled through McD's

our next stop was Kroger
said a short prayer for her
parked
she finished her McD's
she asked me if i wanted some R&B CDs but then she coughed a chuckle - "you probably don't listen to that kinda music." i told her she needed her music for her-not sure what she wanted to do with her music.
i dropped her off at the door offering to help her make some purchases but she said she had another plan- spoke my hope that she finds what she needs - that she finds what she needs today

CHAPTER 2
diaper dasher
in my younger days when i chummed around chicago with street dwellers and cons i was so optimistic that whatever it was i was doing would be the moment - be that something that gave them the momentum to escape. even the time when i got tricked into purchasing the biggest most expensive (took all the money i had!) pack of diapers - as soon as i handed the money at the counter the guy took off with the diaper pack, the pack was half as big as him and he barely fit through the revolving door- so much for meeting his wife and baby... later found out that diapers and baby formula are two very powerful pieces of merchandise on the street.

at one point when K and I were discussing money i blurted out that i hate money - not in a hateful way - i think she understood what i was saying for the both of us - i told her she was financially unlucky to cross my path - our eyes connected

why is it awkward to talk about money? why in america is there such a connection between money and our heart?

i speak for K, the diaper dasher and all my friends that once lived within Lower Wacker:

CHAPTER 3
it is hard to be poor in a plastic society
it is even harder to be poor in a rich country

my gaze and heart have been fixed on third world places
when i worked in Emergency Medical Services i practically gave up believing that this nation would resolve OUR poverty issue, resolve the way sick people are cared for

been considering the universal picture
the scope of where i am and who i am and what
what i can do - i have direction - it is the same direction it was - the course has not changed only the vehicle (me)
the misadventures of pooh are over
"click" in my mind and heart - i know this - nothing is amiss

streets are places to take is from one place to another- streets are different on days like today for K - STREET is all the places moms like K have to go looking for an opportunity to survive - survive one day at a time - even the streets of a city more suburban than urban

i am home now - my hands are still cold even after a few moments of typing and pounding out my thoughts - must toughen my 5 senses - discontinue my plastic, casual, misadventures

the car smells like old cigarette smoke and street

Jesus smelled like street
he wouldn't dis somebody in a parking lot on a cold day
i saw her coming - i still have great street radar - i know what was coming - first thought was duck into car and get going
instead
a trip into K's world and a heavy dose of healthy introspection:

Jesus people should smell like street...not plastic