The Man Who Lived in my Car

I had a friend in trouble. He moved into my car. I wrote about it. The picture in the avatar is the bar behind my old home.

The Man Who Lived in my Car

 

 

 

His name was Santos

Short, peaceful, Mexican

He was my new neighbor

In the eight unit beach bungalows

That sat on the corner of 22^nd and pacific.

He lived across from me.

 

Happy

Smiling

More mouse than man

He told me Diablo

Lived in bar

Behind my Beach Bungalow

 

He was a good amigo

Had a fine brown van

And dated Apollonia’s mother

Life was muy bien

For my new friend

 

After a little while

Santos returned to the bar

Behind our home

To drink with Diablo

 

In a matter of months

He lost everything

His home

Van

And Apollonia’s mother

 

The bar life will

Drain a man.

Leaves him soulless

Leaves him homeless

Leaves him lifeless

 

He came to me one night

One Cold Harbor night

And asked me if he could

Sleep in

my

car

 

A four door

1989 Toyota corolla

I purchased from a Chinese student

Who attended Cal state long beach

Two doors worked

Two windows didn’t

The heat never did

 

I said yes

 

Before I left for work each morning

To baby sit the urban youth

I woke my sleepless, homeless friend

He lived in my car for six months

This was our routine

In a few weeks our routine would change

 

I later found plastic packets with a white dusty residue

I ignored them

I did not

I could not

 

 

My car became his temporary casa.

Driver side: bedroom

Passenger side: living room

Back seat: Kitchen, den, and foyer

 

During the morning when I woke him

He would jump out of the car

He would grab his green duffle bag

And hobble off

To the streets of San Pedro

 

My landlord was Roy

A self made Millionaire, who lived in Bixby Knolls but was from Allentown, PA

Roy owned a recycling plant

Roy owned a plane

 

Roy found out Santo was living

 In

My

 Car

 

He told me he had to go

He had caught him shitting in the alley

At that moment I thought Roy

Needed another hobby.

 

Roy said it was illegal to have

Homeless Mexican men

Who drank with Diablo

And dated Apollonia’s mother

In

My

Car

 

That night I saw Santos

He invited two other people

 Into

 My

 Car

 

His home

They were addicts

Drug abusers.

I told Santos his lease was up

He and the addicts disappeared

Into the alley

Behind the bar

Were the devil drank

 

A month later I told Roy I had to go

I packed the housecar and drove to Carson

 

A little while later

Roy’s plane hit a Mountain in Alaska

 

I guess God don’t like ugly

Even if he owned a plane.

 

 

Author's Note

please, comments, conversation, edits, love hates. I must say I love the comments some of you are very intelligent thinkers.

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

Good ending for Roy. I like the story. I like the description of the life of Santos. A lot of good people can fall down. Good to have someone give a little kindness. I drank with the Devil a few times on the beach in Santa Cruz. Thank you for the excellent story.
Coyote

[Gobinder Singh Dhindsa]

Really Nice.... I like it. I have no word...... Keep it up! God bless you!

[Katherine Moure]

I liked that you replaced certain potentially English nouns with Spanish ones. The poem had great moments, mostly describing the life of Santos. Some of the lesser moments are the ones like these:
"The bar life will
Drain a man.
Leaves him soulless
Leaves him homeless
Leaves him lifeless"

"A little while later
Roy’s plane hit a Mountain in Alaska

I guess God don’t like ugly
Even if he owned a plane."

These are too trying, morally. The point of ethics in a poem is to ask questions more than answer them. After all, we are not trying to make nifty little arguments so much as implying them with images actions. The verses above were too explicit, which came off as preachy.

[Fairytale]

This is an interesting story in a poem form. I found myself pulled in, even though it is not something I would normally read about. I couldn't quite get the last line, though. I enjoy your work, although sometimes the sentences are very choppy. The upside to this is that a short sentence is easy to read. I would imagine you could develop some amazing sentences, if you worked on making them flow together a bit more. This is a place where you could describe with feeling, as well as what is actually happening. Great job with this poem. You did a fantastic job of keeping my interest.

[Yari Garcia (Older Prof..]

This is one of the best I've read so far. I love how it's more than just a poem, but a story to be told. It's interesting and really keeps my attention. I enjoyed it very much. I'm adding it to my favorites :-)

[NZane]

Wow. I was captured by your words. I agree you're a good at telling stories. Good job :)

[~Blue Fantasy~]

You are a wonderful story teller. You cover ever detail in a simply way but leaves me with a great image. I love the way you just wright about everyday life. Your have a really cool style to all of your stories!! I have to agree with Trish on the ending. God is not out to get us. Wheeee thank goodness but God is not smiling when we are acting ugly. So maybe Roy got what was coming to him? Hmmm Roy should have watched out for those mountains they can be very deceiving! Great write!!!! I enjoyed it very much. Thanks for sharing and send me so more!;)

[Blue Moon Ice Cream]

You say a lot about yourself and the other two characters in a few words. Very sad, very vivid image of Santos. Each character's perspective on the situation shines through...simple and complex at the same time.

[Penlady]

God doesn't like uglies, speaks to me of Karma. The main body of work is fascinating in that each line points to the world and how it lives. You are an exceptionally colorful writer and one with a great capacity for understanding your fellow man. Write on!

[patricia]

I enjoyed this poem all the way through but I kinda disputed the idea at the end..personally I don't see a vengeful God going round doin stuff like that, if I did I would be in big trouble...yikes. thanks.

[Stammers]

This is alive with your life, I get the feeling you're the type of writer that values truth and reality and the colour and noise and artificially paced urban life, in its ugliness and humanity, was definitely in every word of this. You've created a place not a description here. A great chunk of concrete for us to look at, with a very reflective surface.