his next life

he's thinner now.
his hair
once thick and tied tight
into a pony
tail
is thin too, like silver
feathers
on his tanned skull.
but his eyes are clear.
chemo
and radiation haven't dampened
his rebellion
to a world he's never
really been a part of.
he's on the dole.
every taxpayer has paid
his share of
his medical woes.
he's home free, in the shelter
with three squares a day,
a bunk,
a bureau, a lamp.
he's a survivor.
off the grid, onto his
next life, one of many.