Into the infinite

Pier 11

This place smells like a very very old fishmarket mixed with hot dog and concession waste stands. But after St. Pauls I don't think anything could be worse. The sight of chris' drooping face and blood everywhere was something I'll probably never forget. But if you stood in the street and cried and screamed you will surely be sent to Bellevue hospital in no time at all. I walked straight to under the fdr walking north towards battery park. He said the pier would be the spot to meet. I'm assuming I'll find his very tall long haired body among the fleet of benches. And as my terrible eyes scanned down I saw our stuff tucked under a bench. Raven was drinking what looked like hot chocolate on the bench beside it smiling right at me. Hes such a good soul. I know its raining terribly outside the highway overpass. However he could have just tucked our stuff away and instead he chose to babysit it like a dog or small child he's sort of hiding. Alot of us had so much stolen from our packs wallets pants even stuff like photos of parents and kids. Sometimes stuff was taken by the cops and sometimes one of your friends. I've been there several times and have done so to others in return. No one takes pride in being a thief. It makes everyone around you paranoid and almost savage like. This is being homeless. Just like we did in those first weeks in the encampment almost 9 months ago we sat beside each other exchanging sandwiches reading old poetry books. I felt a small kiss on the back of my neck I knew it was Louis besides his long strands hair tickling my ear. I was so happy he was safe and made it back to me that night. He brought me some coffee and tried to make a few bucks so he could get us mcdonalds. We made a small dry spot and let the day pass. This was a tremendous risk as people would board the ferry be tourists or residents of chinatown will trample you during their morning tai chai run. There were rules in this spot. This was pier 11. The parks dept managed much of the area. There were security cameras linked to the parks dept as well. So keeping a low profile was a must here. Back when I was a kid south street seaport was such a popular spot to either shop in the mall see a show or go to the fish market down the block. It was sad seeing so much of the shops museums and even the mall close and changed over to make with the times. The group of us was kept small who actually slept at the pier. There was also only so much room to spare without drawing attention. Since the entire stretch of piers leading past fulton street there were also other options for other groups of people to discreetly sleep and or store stuff. It was deemable to keep the place clear of empty beer and drugs so we can come back again unnoticed. We would go to the upper deck of pier 10 overlooking dumbo brooklyn and the bridge. Just me and him. It was one of the most romantic experiences of my life. What a sight to behold next to the brooklyn bridge. Every sunrise and sunset cascade ribbons of pink and purple across a navy sky. We had privacy. And well after a few weeks I would see Neil shuffle around the pavement. He was alone after Marie being locked up for a little while he wasn't sure what to do. In exchange of are you doing okay and do you need anything from Duane Reade  we just passed each other for a while. Most of my days were filled with making money or getting a shower doing laundry getting therapy and a free metro at the drop in center. Neil and the kid even ezzy would be there always asking me how I was. Louis was always trying to make our lives easier consolidating what he could for us. I'm not always chipper especially if the cops chased me around 3 different spange spots so I would naturally pick fights with him at times I saw fit. Also my bitch fits when we had no money to drink or aquire alcohol. Looking back I have absolutely no doubt he loved me with so much patience. He would get paranoid too always worried I'll meet some rich guy in front of a popeyes when I'm holding my sign. I don't think the one you truly love is supposed to understand how deep your love is for them. Beyond that we felt infinite. Our bodies our souls having such a terrible turn in life and meeting one another was beyond comprehension. He always held me so close looking over the watchtower on the other side of the bridge. The feeling of security in a state of absolute constant anxiety and despair was something I wish I treasured more. In a way we were kind of lucky not only just to have each other but to have this time with each other. Every single day every hour every moment was something most people search their entire lives for. Plus the freedom to just be and do whatever. Probably the worst thing was the lack of privacy and the warmth of our bed and eating food from our own kitchen. Something that just seemed like a dream at the time. We talked about these things to the point of tears and anticipation. Building our lives in little conversations.  Smoking a blunt talking for hours feeling the warmth of his chest against my cheek. I never knew such a thing. It made me look forward to another day on the sidewalk tommorow. Someday in the future this would be behind us. Someday we will have everything and still have our own little world. Until then we had layers of benches and a gorgeous view. No one ever disturbed us but alot of people would sit and watch us. It would sometimes get annoying but I feel like it was always just us sometimes our comrades our friends and family. But it seemed like people around us always commuting always doing stuff barely existed to me. Just moving bodies serving the everyday consumer purpose. In a way we all fit beautifully here. We all as people had roles to play and routine to be had. Us little people our life our current status on a sidewalk were pivotal. We were the reminders of how good you really have it in your own life. Dirty mean begging for change bums stinking of stale vodka and piss. But beneath addictions and the tides of absolute destitution there lies an actual human being with emotions depth and a sense of love. In the years I cradled sidewalk asphalt and embraced the gross upflow of warm subway vents most people saw us as the cockroaches of society. Most men saw me as someone who could easily be bought and most women were pretty disgusted by me. I've had situations seeing my mothers old co workers to people I went to high school with. Simply put with seeping pity I would usually split a pint of evan williams with Louis. I found another sense of comfort within caramel spiced burning cheap blends of whiskey without sense and care. You can only pretend to cope for so long before it takes hold of you. Like valium or a decent opiate he eased my pain. And as such became just as addicting more and more with time. The withdrawl itself was devastating vacant and so painful. I thought my experience with him being gone was a one time thing. In a weird selfish way I felt my heart took enough of a beating and a test of loyalty. Thats the fucking problem with reality. Your constantly tested, pushed to the brink of ones own sense of sanity and will to carry on. Watching the last shimmer of sunlight bounce off his gorgeous brown eyes would be something I would treasure in my heart forever.  I found myself on that exact bench two weeks later. Except instead of blushing from cheek and neck kisses I am sitting alone against this rain and wind. I can't see straight bobble head style. And I don't fucking care. My shit lies 10 feet away next to Chase clutching the last of his vodka bottle. My cigarette is half soaked as I stumble the few stone steps under the freeway to inhale some more cancer. I felt a grip shake my shoulder just fogged over glasses and a blonde mustache grimace. "Your gonna fucking die Bananas with or without him if you keep on this shit sister." I laughed in his face returning to my pile of disposition and quarters next to the half fucked gay guy I spent most of my time with now. I acquired the nickname Bananas. For obvious reasons. I don't know  what it was that drew me to Chase at first. He pissed me off further than anyone else. But jesus christ did that boy suffer for the movement. He took beatings from the police and people who simply didn't like his queer ass screaming at them. And for that I had some admiration and curiousity. And with that grew some genuine trust between us. We had a bond and saw each other as too vulnerable not to be left alone. I sat there tucking my feet in so as to not kick him and get wet at the same time just looking out onto the horizon. The watchtower red lights almost mocking me at this point.