Love can Be Found, BUMS

17 – painters song: Love can be found

Love can be found in the city if you look
around corners. Running, a shadow, across
architectural whimsies.

Love can be found in a boy, a girl, dressed only
in gossamer, nude in their clothing, naked
in their intent.

Stand aside from the concrete block feet of the towering city marching by, safe in the rut of its solitude, its quietude; watch as so many run by, chase the bulls, hunt the bear, ride by ensconced on escalators, monarchs of the up and down, while others surge ahead of everyone chased by slavering manic dogs with the scent and taste of blood on their tongues.

There is a dance
throughout this tumult,
fairy rings of fireworks,
sustained burn of home fires,
sparks that cartwheel
through the high and low of the air,
past every obstacle,
to discover
another Catherine Wheel.
Ignited, constant ignition
that has nothing to do with
the traffic jam on the four OH one.

You should know,
the only true commerce
of the city is invisible, cannot
be counted, nor can its index
be assessed, this has resisted
all take-over attempts
and still remains priceless.

It is it, it is love.
It is the illness that cures
itself. What fits it is
it, and only it, until you admit,
it is the bit that makes
a bit of it into more than a bit.
The it and only it—
it fits, and that is what makes it
happen.
Love happens—it can be found
anywhere.

18 – chorus: BUMS

1st chant

gimme a dime, gimme a quarter, loonie, dub-loonie, coffee, cigarette, token, some money

hey mister … I ain’t gonna hurt yu, please cn yu help me; hey mister … cn yu help me please, cn yu help me …
hey mister … down on my luck, chief, down on my luck

2nd chant

gimmus sum, please need sum, gotta get sum, can you spare sum

hey you—fat cat—you’ve never seen hard times
hey you—rich lady—just gimme what’s in your wallet—you’ll never notice—help you lose weight—yeah
hey you—you who’s ignoring me—how would you like to be in this place, you think I want it?

3rd chant

can’t you see me, you look right through me like I am a glass bone

1st thought/inaction

how can they get like that, how can they get there, could I get there, what would put me there, how close am I to the brink; what separates us? please don’t ask me, please don’t bother me … it all started with … don’t mention that word: “they”

1st letter to the editor

they are worth less
they are less than worthy
they are trash
they die in the street
and no one notices
because they are less than trash

2nd thought/action

here’s a loonie—buy a hot lunch
here’s a loonie—get yourself a shower
here’s a loonie—buy some new clothes, you smell
here’s a loonie—get a life

4th chant

we are—the city
we are—the silence in the streets
we are—the shadows
we are—your incomplete

2nd letter to the Editor

something should be done so people like that … something should happen because people like that … people like … people like … people like … let’s make a law so that people … let’s make it illegal … let’s try to control … let’s stop this flagrant abuse of the generosity of our society … so that people like that … like that … like that … like that … just stop being … like that … stop being …