At Home In The Graveyard (Poetry)

It’s free accomodation
the dead prove charitable hosts
men squat among the tombstones
glad of understanding ghosts

It’s the living they’re afraid of —
the ones who have an axe to grind
the ignorant whose prejudice
and drink inflames the mind

The raiders come at nightfall
to steal and pillage what they can
and it’s dog eat dog for no one
protects the rights of homeless man

They don’t exist — no official record
denials ringing loud and clear
this town’s too up itself for vagrants
no tolerance of that type here

Yet the proof is in the graveyard
and local newsprint — black and white
but those in authority lack pity so
the issue’s swept from sight