BAS Poetry: San Francisco Sunday Morning
Broke-Ass Stuart is now accepting poetry submissions to be featured in the BAS Poetry: Arts & Culture column. Written & curated by Corinne Avganim.
It’s Easter Sunday morning. My feeds are full of beautiful babies fumbling around their first egg hunts and the cafes are full of grown adults wearing pink bunny ears and curing hangovers. It’s also Passover. I should be enjoying a beautiful matzoh brei breakfast with friends, but alas, for me, it is also the ever-dreaded moving weekend.
I’m moving for the first time in about 7 years. I cycle through waves of excitement, anxiety, sadness and back to excitement. I also feel grateful. I’m moving from one rent control lease to another. I’m moving on my own accord and staying in the city (as you know, a challenge for even the comfortable ones). I don’t have to couch surf at all inbetween spots.
The man I walked over as I stepped out of my apartment complex this morning can’t say the same. On a weekend dedicated to miracles, I leave you with words from Broke-Ass Stuart himself that I hope inspire a bit of extra awareness and generosity as we head into a new month, and I’m sure new evictions:
SAN FRANCISCO SUNDAY MORNING
By (Broke-Ass) Stuart Schuffman
San Francisco, California
Walking home from your place
At 8 in the morning
On Sunday
Still early enough that
People haven’t come out to find
Their car windows smashed
I play “Ivy” by Frank Ocean
And then I play it again
The city is still wet and sleeping
From last night’s parties and rain
The homeless are soggy
And defeated
And yet people who live in homes
Want to take their tents away
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To submit a poem, email poetry@brokeassstuart.com with your 100% original piece of work, full name, age, city, links to social media, and (optional) biographical blurb.