Enter Home Planet News Poetry of Issue #4                        Page 50
Table of

Homeless Serenade

I guzzle down poison in paper cups.
My barf has a wicked stench.
I smell like a litter of butchered pups
When I sleep on my subway bench.

What I am is you within.
The truth that you bury or flush.
Open your mouth. Beneath your skin
I am the voice that you hush.

I'm a living latrine, a horror in rags.
You rot like the living dead.
I carry my trash in shopping bags;
Your garbage is stuffed in your head.

Don't run from the day like a cowardly mole.
I've got a john that's cheap.
Let's make love on a toilet bowl.
We'll sit on the can and sleep.

        Matthew Paris

    Credo For The Homeless

I know I'm a louse, a bum and a cad 
Look, I don't want to start a row 
Most guys are blah but I'm really bad 
Let's see if you can help me now.

I have you and a whore who gave me AIDS 
She shrieks like a flatulent cow
I sliced up my condoms with razor blades
Let's see if you can help me now.

It says in the Bible that man is free
Freedom is something I'd miss
Breaking from prison or out on a spree
God loves me to be like this.

I'm flat on the gutter, filthy and cold
Had sex with a leprous sow
I'm itching with bedbugs, covered with mold
Let's see if you can help me now.

I was brought up with money, excellent clothing
Degrees from both Harvard and Yale
Will you accept my hate and self-loathing?
Will you join me on Welfare or jail?

I'm in love with my pain, and I love to complain 
I'll bring you down- and how! 
Life is insane as you go down the drain
Let's see if you can help me now.

Matthew Paris

          Homeless Love

Come into my refrigerator box
And munch on my day-old bread.
I'll wash out my trench coat and woman's socks. 
I'll put lettuce heads under your head.

We'll sit in the subway and beg for change. 
I'll look helpless, insane, yet not lazy.
I'll limp a little and you'll look strange. 
Then we'll buy Gypsy Rose and get crazy.

I'll smell like an outhouse and you will too.
We'll clear out a car on the train.
I've got a fragrance like pigs in a zoo;
Your fragrance could pickle one's brain.

We'll have little kids in a Welfare hotel. 
We'll nestle in rat dung and piss.
We'll make love in a mixture of roach juice and hell.
The suburbs were never like this.

Matthew Paris__

    Making Love To the Homeless

Many give gold to the wicked and old
Some build a home for the harmless
Though what I do must fill the sane with disgust
I love the ugly and charmless.

I like them thin with a pustulant skin
Each feels my kiss and caress',
I enter their flesh; I mingle and mesh
And never say: God, what a mess.

It's a pleasure to thirst for love of the worst
Though in love I am weirdly discreet
I like to make creatures with horrible features
Who piddle and dung in the street.

Does Creation suggest at its beautiful best
That love is a whisper of honey.
The angels love sex when its wild and complex
But God only loves love when it's funny.

Matthew Paris__