On the basis

On the basis of not being able to write a full sentence

About

the homeless

people I saw on the streets of Glasgow this week;

It is probably

easier

for me to reflect my thoughts

thus…

 

Costa* cups,

the receptacles.

 

Drowsy men and women,

some with swollen livers

others,

dead-eyed,

sedated by opiate cocktails

and ground-down benzos.

 

Some asking for change,

although most.

just sitting there.

 

Some with placards

explaining their situation;

Others with just

the tattered cups.

 

And the irony of £2.80 for cup of coffee which we accept as being OK

and folk on the street

without

Anything.

 

Likely kicked-out of accommodation

for failure to pay

or comply with requirements

of whatever pathway the social services have dreamed-up

to keep the statistics at bay.

 

A mixing-pot of mental and physical health

needs

and

dependencies.

A concoction of misery,

their dirty,

chipped fingernails

and thickened skin.

 

Matted hair,

Some with Irn Bru to hand

as if

that is something for them to identify

to, relate

to.

 

And

the homeless of Glasgow

seem to be better tolerated

than those of other places;

 

I see well-meaning folk,

Stopping to chat

to enquire

about circumstances.

 

The overpriced coffee is not obscene,

yet

we distance ourselves from these people

who are merely

representative of

the cracks

in our society.

*I am not specifically getting at Costa – I suspect they are amongst the best of a bad lot; they seem however to be the favoured collecting cup used by people in Glasgow in 2017.