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"DIRTBAG DREAMS" Prose by Gabriel Thomas

We lived in a tiny shit hole 

above a crack den 

in downtown San Diego. 


We slept on the floor 

and purchased 

the cheapest food 

and cooked it 

inside a closet sized kitchen. 


And we worked. 


We worked, 

as the homeless roamed the streets, 

as the traffic and parking 

attempted to murder us. 


And the west coast sunsets, 

they brought me back to life, 

and there was always something to do, 

but we never had the money to do much. 


So we walked the city 

and watched the tall buildings 

with the light and glass dancing. 


The Bay was that way, 

Coronado over the bridge, 

and we had a pet snail named ‘Hank’. 

He lived inside an old salad container, 

and we loved him. 


We loved him 

because he was life 

and we were life 

and we were living. 


We shopped at thrift stores 

and tried new foods, 

and in all our time 

we were wondering 

what we could do with our dirtbag dreams in this behavioral sink.