UNDER THE BRIDGE

The Ogre and The Servant

The servant is indentured
Put into a place she can not escape from
Put into a place she does not wish to be
The Ogre controls all with his bellow,
Telling the servant what to do without saying it directly.
He rules the kingdom of Hades
He thinks he speaks lovingly and softly.
The servant girl knows better.
She has been in this place before
A long time ago
When she was little and powerless
She feels powerless now.
She has the power but is afraid to wield the sword.
The cherub loves the Ogre
The cherub will grow to be the Ogre someday.
The servant girl counts the eons until the young cherub’s wings are strong and swift.
"It is too far away. How can I cope?"
The ogre hears and grumbles his voice reverberates
Throughout the kingdom.
"I am good to you. Why do you say I am not?"
"Why do you want more? You are just selfish."
"What about me? What about the crow?"
The servant girl withdraws to her plants.
Escape reality...escape reality...if only for a while.
The servant knows she is indentured forever.
The Ogre will never leave.
The Ogre will never let her be free.
The Ogre will always win.

Kim

CROUTONS

Hearths and Homes
by Joe Harcz

Desolate spirits roam lost in the wilderness.
Limping lonely languishing Nome’s
Just trembling figures struggling to caress
The promise of hearths and homes.
Holding on to survival
Like starving dogs to bones.
Hoping for renewal and revival
Before the reaper hones
His sickle and strikes life’s force
In cynical comical abandon,
Without lament or a trace of remorse.
Still struggling to carry on
Each shooting craps with destiny.
Holding on to shopping carts
guarding park benches relentlessly,
Each braving disease, darkness and broken hearts
Lost somehow to America’s dream
In the midst of so much affluence.
Viewed like parasites in the cream
or savage human pestilence.
They are the faceless and the nameless
Fruits of broken promises
Called the nations homeless.
And whether victimizer or victimized
there they are nonetheless.
Most taken to the streets before they realized
The insidious relentlessness
And capriciousness of fate
That separates us into haves and have nots
Even in a nation so great.

You can submit work to this publication 2 ways:

1. Mail to:
UNDER THE BRIDGE
P.O. Box 3431
Manchester, NH 03105
(If you have no money or access ask your local CAP or other agency to assist you. Make a copy for yourself.)

2. Email:
[email protected]

If I Were You

PITY!
I don’t want your damn pity!
Life is hard enough
in this cold dark city.

Sure, I may be homeless
and you might not like the way I look,
but that doesn’t make me
a crack head or crook.

What I really want
is for you to accept -
that I’m a fellow human being
who deserves some respect.

I’m here for reasons
you may never understand,
but please don’t think me subhuman
as I walk this barren land.

You who sit in your nice warm house
and drive around in fancy cars,
should know about the cold, hard truth
that made us who we are.

Women who are beaten
and couldn’t take it anymore,
men having a hard time
‘cause they fought a war.

Some who have fallen
right between the cracks,
who could use a little help
but the services they lack.

Take a good look in the mirror
the next time that you do,
think about what it would be like
If I were to become you!

(C) 3/00