Nine Years Ago

 The first time I was homeless

was when I ran away at seventeen.

 

I never had to think about food or shelter,
I just stuck out my thumb
for seven months

my shelter was the car or truck I was in
people were nice enough to feed me.

I was too dumb to be scared.

 

Yesterday, I got a letter in the mail,
telling me that my name was near the top of the list
for a low income apartment.
I put my name on this list,
NINE YEARS AGO!

 

Nine years ago

when housing market was
getting really tough.
I was nearly 50 years old, disabled
and my son was still in high school.

 

Nine years ago

 

After my divorce
and my mom's death
I knew I would lose the house
I couldn't pay the mortgage on my own

The bank would not even talk to me about
lowering the payment
because only mom's name was on the paperwork
and she didn't leave a will.

Nine years ago

 

I applied for the few apartments
that were in my price range
but so did dozens of others.

 

Did you know

they charge 30 dollars per person
to process the applications?
So, at 60 dollars a pop,
I could not afford to be turned down
too many times.

 

When I became homeless for the second time
I called every agency, organization and church in the county

but instead of help
they gave me phone numbers.

When I called those numbers I got more phone numbers
and when I called those numbers,
I was given the same numbers I had called in the first place!
And nobody gave me ANY help!

 

That is how my son and I came to live in a tent for a year.
That tent leaked
like a cold water sluice on my head.

 

At least we had our dog
I felt safer knowing that she would bark
if any stranger came near our tent at night.

Three times I caught pneumonia
and had to fight for my life
while I drowned with every thought

and every breath.

 

When I nearly died
the hospital social worker

promised to get us into housing
but all she did was

give me another damn phone number!

 

All any of those numbers did
was alleviate the guilt
of the people whose job it was
to give other people help.

 

My son worked hard to finish high school

and find a job.
He got us out of that tent
he saved my life
and got us into a couple of way over-priced rooms
in someone else's house. 

it was all we could find
but we had to re-home our little dog
who'd kept us safe
all year long.

 

And now, nine years after I needed it,

my name is finally
on the top of the list for a low income apartment.