Street Warrior

They asked for my address
before they’d hear my case.
I wrote: beneath the promises.
They said that wasn’t a place.

The city gave its benches teeth
and called the streets improved.
I slept beside a building
where they met to end my sleeping there.

I brought no sword.
A question did the damage:
Who signed this?
Where did the money go?

They called me difficult.
The pavement called me nothing.
Of the two,
it offered more support.

At dawn I folded up my bed
so people could get past.
Upstairs, they opened the report
and put my life in the past tense.

I went in to correct it.