Just Got to Heaven Going to Look Around

“Won’t you sit down? Lord, I can’t sit down,
cause I just got to Heaven going to look around.”

“I’m going to look around.”
says Raymond,
“I won’t live like an animal,
“I won’t sleep in alleys.
“I won’t live where I can’t build a fire,
where I can’t clean up.
I won’t.
“I’m going to look around.”

Deputy sheriffs with guns and clubs
evicted Raymond from the woods,
from his camp on the banks of Sweetwater Branch,
where he bathed and washed his clothes,
where he used to sit at night and read a book
by lantern light.

“I won’t live like an animal,
I’m going to look around.”



Raymond remembers
the days he used to live inside.

“I have nothing now.”
“I’m always alone.
“Where am I supposed to go?”
“I won’t live where I can’t build a fire,
“I won’t,
“I’m going to look around.”

I have no answer, though
I know what it’s like
to lose at musical chairs.
We stand together on the
pieces of ground
underneath the soles of our feet,
breathing in and out,
reviewing what we know,
strung thin like prayer beads:

Homeless people have the legal right
to be on a public sidewalk at night.
All other land forbidden as being
parks, private property,
closed until morning.
Homeless people have the right
to be on a public sidewalk at night,
as long as they don’t sit down.

“I won’t sit down.”

As long as they don’t lie down.

I won’t lie down.”

As long as they don’t sleep.

“I won’t sleep.”

“I’m going to look around.”

“May I breathe the air other people breathe?
Or should I breathe only into my cupped hands?”

“Won’t you sit down? Lord, I can’t sit down,
cause I just got to Heaven going to look around”