To You Who Sleep Poem by Tamir Greenberg

To you who sleep on street corners,
hugging a bottle of vodka and scratching in your bitterness,
tottering drunk at intersections, bumming a shekel, a cigarette or gum,
challenging an attaché case and an SUV,
to you from whom a balding man looks away and an elegant woman
hastens to answer her phone as you approach,
you, who are the wound and the salvation, the silence and the scream,
slaves of the white dust falling on the city, ambassadors of dreams,
angels of unconsciousness,
who at some time were given a name, and whose cheeks some woman
caressed with affection, and baked a cake for your birthday,
you who with heartening laughter replied:
“Doctor! ” or “Driver! ” or “Policeman! ”
you, the butterfly wings again stained with spittle,
you, a whisper of love and a strangled melody,
you, skin trembling as a black Harley roars past,
you, the remains of a bread roll kissed by hot lips,
you, all the laws of the state and its judges, newspapers, news, ads,
you, heroin, cocaine, LSD, VIP, muselmen
in the concentration camps of greed,
human leftovers cast in the garbage after a hearty meal,
you, with your putrid flesh, shreds of trousers and a broken nail,
pills, needles, lips bleeding a question that will not still be asked,
you, perfect wound sprawling in the crowd, zero longing rotting in the crowd,
here, kitty, tickle my arm with your whiskers, pet me, shadow of death, pet me,
who for a while wore disguise, a name, a wallet and a coat,
who were we, who betrayed, and kicked, and shot an arrow into the sky
with a challenging laugh,
and were we in your rags we would be like you, we would be like you,
and in our dreams rain falls on your faces,
and in our dreams rain combs your hair,
and when we awaken – your hand, yes, your hand
fumbles for the alarm clock –


may you sleep well, my brothers, my loved ones,
and the drug will still flow with passion in your blood,
and someone else who is sweet in your heart will still laugh,
and the city’s face will still be shamed white by your dreams,
and were I a man, I would be like you.