visit
to Portland. it's raining.
it's cold
and damp.
the homeless are everywhere.
fragile
tents and cardboard
houses line
the boulevard.
jobs are scarce.
crime is rampant.
the sky
is a grey wet
rag
dragged across
a dirty floor.
there is no sun, no light.
it's a permanent solar
eclipse.
i see him
sitting in his chair
in front of his college
degree,
rolling a joint.
he's weeping.
i put my hand on his shoulder,
and tell him.
i get it.
i see why you're depressed.
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