27.
Bitten by Sadness
By Mike Garofalo
My great nephew,
Joshua Loya his name,
a troubled, sick, tired man;
We tried to help him and failed.
A soul free of conventionality.
He was a homeboy styler
a skinny fellow
dressed in baggy pants.
Hanging out with cholos
for a fine machismo time.
His mom died when he was 10
he never recovered!
From auto accidents and hepatitis
and fun drug usage most days;
he slowly slipped from us away.
He lived with us for a year
a lazy fellow
straight F's in high school,
some thieves and stoners for friends.
Still, we wished him well to the end.
My son and we tried to help
Joshua when down
and others did contribute,
to bring him better around
but his failures ground him down.
He phoned every so often
babbling and rude
wandering in a broken brain;
His long letters, indecipherable,
but with artistic displays.
He lived in County jails
for petty crimes
and old half-way houses
time after time after time.
In garages of friends sometimes.
He called Aunt Blanchee.
He was homeless again
hoping for help from friends.
Sadly, he was sick again.
He wished her well at the end.
Today,
the police said,
Josh was shot dead!
They found his slumped body
on bloody asphalt
in a City of Industry
vacant parking lot.
Bullets through his broken heart!
