A homeless man splayed in the bed of a tiny pickup. I haven’t seen anyone ride in the back of pickup in decades. It was such a common sight in my Oregon City youth.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A homeless man strums a kid’s guitar in dense morning fog. He’s sitting on the ground with a leashed pit bull. I can’t make out the tune.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A homeless man sleeps on his back in the front lawn of an abandoned home.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A homeless man carrying a Santa-like bag of cans and bottles remarks how Elmer is.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Firemen trudged down to the homeless encampment in the wetlands to douse a campfire.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A homeless woman wearing a flowing red dress weaves in and out of traffic.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A homeless plays on his phone sitting on a bench in front of a bar.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A homeless woman tries to control three pit bull puppies with a piece of rope for a leash.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A homeless woman tears through free items left on a sidewalk.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A homeless man eats convenience store fried chicken on a bench overlooking Coos Bay.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A homeless man picks up a discarded container of convenience store fried chicken, sits down on a curb, and eats the chicken. (No, I’m not going to write a poem about convenience store fried chicken and the homeless, but it sure calls for one. Wait! Two weeks later I did.)<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A homeless man shouldering a fishing pole walks on the crab pier.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A 50-year-old camping trailer that looks like it served as a command post at Stalingrad is marooned along Cape Arago Highway. How? Why?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A homeless man sleeps in the lobby of the post office.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A homeless woman hunches over in the middle of a sidewalk and plays a game on her phone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A homeless man beats a sidewalk with a piece of re-bar.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A homeless woman shakes to and fro inside a bus shelter.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A homeless man dances with a light pole in a style vaguely reminiscent of Gene Kelly in Singing in the Rain<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Three more solo shoes appear in the middle of a side street. Never pairs. Why? Someone needs to write a metaphysical treatise on this subject.<\/p>\n\n\n\n A homeless man waits for the donut shop to open.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Two homeless people converse inside their domicile carved into a hedge.<\/p>\n\n\n\n A homeless woman searches for (?) in a rivulet running into Coos Bay.<\/p>\n\n\n\n A hooded homeless man pushes his shopping cart past my house as Elmer and I step out the front door. We follow him until he turns into the parking lot of a Subway.<\/p>\n\n\n\n A homeless man digs through the dumpster at the boat ramp.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Two men and a small dog sleep in a battered SUV.<\/p>\n\n\n\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" A homeless man splayed in the bed of a tiny pickup. I haven’t seen anyone ride in the back of pickup in decades. It was such a common sight in my Oregon City youth. A homeless man strums a kid’s guitar in dense morning fog. He’s sitting on the ground with a leashed pit bull. […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":10172,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1264,5],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-10171","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-coos-bay","category-meditations","has-post-title","has-post-date","has-post-category","has-post-tag","has-post-comment","has-post-author",""],"builder_content":"","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10171","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=10171"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10171\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":10173,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10171\/revisions\/10173"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/10172"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=10171"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=10171"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=10171"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}