Street Bedroom

Jessica Sholtis & Steve Goldberg


A downtown morning

going to a downblock deli,

I watch

the traffic, the sky, the buildings.


tripping my eyeballs,

a man

dreaming deeply

on a bed

of sidewalk.


staring I pass

a beard

full, stained, and matted

like a neglected puppy


he slumbers

only a doorway

from my

delicious delicatessen destination.


I glance over my shoulder

at each new angle

with each new step.

I fondle my camera.

I see

his pants are



Rising heat

comes to my face.

I turn away


in my invasion of a strangers space

in witnessing a dirty sleeping manís



deli delectibles in hand

face still flushed with awareness

I watch the traffic

feel the guilty camera weight.

fondling, I pause.


a downtown morning

a man

bare assed and snoring

forever oblivious

of a stolen digital memory.

whose sleeping image

affected a woman


for her to want

to keep him