The thirteenth poem in my “s I AM ese” series, and the most personal one so far. It’s about me losing my house that I grew up in and not being able to ever go back. Read up to down as well as left to right!

A homeless man lay comatose in a plaza in Chicago near a Picasso statue, and civilians passed him by without a glance. My friend and I got help, and he was rushed to a hospital and treated for a drug overdose.

The fourth poem in “s I AM ese” series, read as an anagram line by line.