Freezing in York

Dear homeless guy in York,
How are you today? Has this
Bright but heatless sun shone on you
Or are you still sprawled by the street, in your
Green sleeping bag?

In a city where people apologize for walking too close
And the little streets ferry countless feet
Including mine, heading off to
God knows where, who notices you?

While the homeless guy in London
Sat by himself on the corner
As his colleagues lined up
For a free meal on the white van,
You stood out, in pretty York.

While the homeless guy in Leeds sat with a hat before him
And whispered gently 'can you spare some change' even though few
Gave him attention,
You sat there wordlessly being.

While tourists paid loads for petty souvenirs and buzzed around
The street you call home, while we
Were busy taking pictures and making videos, you sat
Quietly by the walls of the great minster,
Mocking us, ably pointing out
The ridiculousness of your government
Who don't value you.

You questioned the discussions held at the prestigious G20 summit,
And held a torch to the relentless cry for pausing.

While the homeless guy near pica studios asked
If I was OK on the night my partner
Was hunted by police and I told him about it
And he said he wished he could cheer me up,
While he could sing and interpret for me
Songs taught to him by his father,

You, sat there shivering.
Amidst the grandeur and stolen wealth of
Those who have preyed on the tireless sweat of the poor
And looted beyond the commonwealth
Claiming to spread civilisation,
You, questioned their interests.

Dear homeless guy is York, who thinks of you?
Whose fault are you?

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