On a Sunny Day in January

I started calling him my bum. Instead of putting on the television I'd turn my back on it, and stare out my window.

I started calling him "my bum," like, 'what's my bum doing today?' He would read his book and sit in the sun on the sidewalk; he hung around for a few days...

Alcohol is an integral part of a bum's life. It serves to sedate them into unconsciousness, it's an all encompassing medication for pain, while also keeping them warm at night; because even though, we have fairly mild weather in San Francisco compared to the rest of the country, which contributes to the reason why we have such a large homeless population, it can get really cold during the nights.



But when 'my bum' was offered a swig from the bottle he refused and grabbed his backpack and took off for a bit. But he came back after a bit.

Side note: I wrote, bums, sunny day, alcohol, reading, for the tags of this post, and I thought, this might be something they'd write for a really f---ed up Sesame Street. This isn't Sesame Street baby, this is Larkin and Eddy!