| A Squatter's TaleIt was cold. We kept marching, | | | | Universe, we would change nothing.But this week, |
| my partner and I, through the December streets. | | | | we were getting out of New England. I wish there |
| The winter sky daunting us, seemingly motionless, | | | | were a way in literature for me to explain how |
| as we continued our journey through this | | | | cold it was, by saying how cold my thumb felt as |
| nightmare of sensory affliction.It was cold. But it | | | | I tried to catch a ride for me and my lover, but I |
| wasn't just cold. It was fucking cold. Feeling had | | | | couldn't -- that is, I couldn't feel my thumb. There |
| departed from my fingers, my hands, my arms, | | | | was no blood going through it, no life left in it, no |
| my legs, my feet, my face. The only part of my | | | | muscle with enough energy to move. There |
| that was warm was the only part that seemed | | | | comes a point in human communication where |
| never to catch coldness: my stomach. And when | | | | some things cannot be told. The nature of such |
| I had an itch to scratch there, I reached to do | | | | pain denies them from being learned, disallows |
| what I had to do, and immediately ripped my arm | | | | them from being taught. This plague of dissension |
| out of my shirt -- my fingers were so cold, so | | | | infects one victim, and he may speak of it for |
| numb with frost, that to bring them to my | | | | the rest of his days, but nobody will ever |
| stomach was to stir the worst of pains."There's | | | | understand. He is alone, he will aways be alone, he |
| no way I'm ever fucking travelling to New England | | | | will die alone. Nobody but his own conscience will |
| again," she said.We were a crew, a partnership. | | | | be able to offer a fair empathy. And so, in like |
| Squatters come like that. Where there's one, | | | | fashion, Firefeet and I march through these |
| there's more. If you find one squatter, their | | | | snowy dunes of New England, heading south. In a |
| partner won't be far. More often than not, their | | | | way, no different than the birds who migrate. Just |
| partner is also their lover. In our age of | | | | a bit slower and willing to take a ride."Hey, Jesus," |
| Materialism and Capitalism, some of us manage to | | | | Firefeet said, "How much longer do you estimate |
| search through the debris of human intellect, and | | | | till we catch a ride?""Well, it's about an eternity |
| find one person who drives us mad with passion. | | | | between cars coming by," I said, "So, it should be |
| Time passes, and you no longer consider them a | | | | any moment now.""It's fucking cold as shit," she |
| person, but you consider yourselves as one | | | | said, her arms clasped and folded, shivering, like |
| person. And with someone whose character is so | | | | my own."No, it's tropical," I said, trying to be |
| powerful, why spend time working eight hours a | | | | cheery, "This snow is nothing but hot, spring |
| day, just because slum lords demand such a high | | | | rain.""That would seem to almost make sense," |
| rent? Why live in a house when you can simply | | | | she said, struggling with her impeded breath, "It's |
| live in each other's company, for ever? | | | | the cold that burns on my face.""At least with |
| Consequently, the lack of desire for a house | | | | every step we take, we're one step towards the |
| coincided with our inability to work, and so we | | | | south and one step towards warmth," I |
| were homeless, squatting, living in abandoned | | | | said."There's only one part of me that's warm |
| buildings when we found them. These pairs, | | | | right now," she said, "And it's the part where only |
| partnerships of the homeless, may be found | | | | you are allowed."I smiled into the faceless breach |
| wherever there are squatters. And when a single | | | | of the oncoming snow, and spoke, "Then let's get |
| squatter has no partner, no travel comrade to | | | | some friction going so we can both warm up!"We |
| make it through the dark nights with them, they | | | | marched, still, until Firefeet fell onto the snow. I |
| often form a clique around a partnership of | | | | turned to her and wrapped my arm over her |
| squatters.My travel partner was Firefeet, but her | | | | shoulder. "What's wrong?" I said. She didn't |
| real name was Lidia. She earned her "street | | | | respond. I tried to pull her up. "Come on, get up, |
| name" from the fact that she can't stay in one | | | | girl," I said.She started to cry, holding her arms |
| place for more than a week. She would meet | | | | buried in her chest. "I can't," she said, "I can't... I |
| someone, disappear from town for a month, and | | | | can't move.""No," I disagreed, "We can make it |
| then be back. One squatter called her Firefeet, | | | | through this. It's only just a few more steps |
| and it stuck. That's how names were given: on an | | | | before we're in that tropical weather again. It'll be |
| impulse, and they stuck forever.I was known little | | | | so hot, you can see steam rising up and out of |
| more than Jesus. I once met another man who | | | | the pavement. You'll be praying for a snow |
| had the same name, but he was given it for a | | | | storm.""I'm going to die," she said with a dying |
| different reason than me: because he actually | | | | effort, her voice struggling.I leaned in closer to |
| looked like the mythical god. The reason I | | | | her. "You remember that night in Seattle, where |
| received this name was because, at the sight of | | | | the temperature dipped down below ten degrees, |
| street Evangelists, I would demonstrate a form | | | | and we had no where to sleep and no blankets? |
| of sarcasm yet unseen in the history of mankind. | | | | Remember how we held each other in that alley |
| "Oh, praise the lord, Jesus, you saved me!" | | | | way as we struggled to sleep, and you told me |
| kneeling down, and then perhaps making lewd | | | | that we would be dead by morning, but we |
| comments, "God, my poka-doted penis needs | | | | survived? Do you remember?""But now is not like |
| your healing touch!" Since squatters lived on the | | | | then," she said."Please, Firefeet," I said, "Get up.""I |
| streets, we know everything that can possibly go | | | | can't," she said again, still crying."Please," I said, "I |
| on on these streets: from picketers to annoying | | | | will do anything for you. Just get up."She sat |
| business salesmen, and we have to deal with it, all | | | | there, unmoving, her body only shaking now and |
| the time. We have no place to go. We are | | | | then because of the tears. I leaned in closer to |
| homeless. Though it would seem reasonable, we | | | | her, kissed her on the ear, and said, "Don't die... |
| cannot go back to our squats during day time. | | | | We have but the rest of our lives to be with |
| There is an off limits rule for returning to your | | | | each other."And so, that night went on... Several |
| squat when there is still light out. Almost like an | | | | hours past, and we were gone. I never left her |
| unspoken rule in the mind of every smart | | | | side. And there was nothing but several |
| squatter, it exists becasue police officers will bust | | | | three-worded phrases exchanged between us. |
| squats only during the day time. So, we are stuck | | | | The snow piled on, and we were only found next |
| in these cities, these bustling and booming places | | | | morning by the Connecticut Sheriff's |
| of industry, commerce, and politics, and in this | | | | Department.In a very real way, we were already |
| huff-and-puff society, we still find ourselves the | | | | dead. We had been living the lives of ghosts, |
| same place we were last night: in the arms of our | | | | drifting aimlessly. But what we had, what we |
| loved one, with nothing but an unrelenting | | | | found in each other, though it was not enough to |
| admiration of what things may come.What is | | | | last an eternity, it was enough. Life, |
| there to do that the poor may do? Those who | | | | PunkerslutPunkerslut (or Andy Carloff) has been |
| are moneyless have but one venture: travel. So | | | | writing essays and poetry on social issues which |
| we hitch hiked, we walked, we trekked. Some | | | | have caught his attention for several years. His |
| days we would wake up, and wonder why we | | | | website provides a complete list of all of these |
| woke up in the state (or country) we did. Our | | | | writings. His life experience includes homelessness, |
| blood warms, and slowly the memories of the | | | | squating in New Orleans and LA, dropping out of |
| previous night flow into our head. But none of | | | | high school, getting expelled from college for |
| that matters, because we fell asleep in the same | | | | "subversive activities," and a myriad of other |
| exact place we slept last night: beside the one | | | | revolutionary actions. |
| who drives us crazy. If we were the gods of this | | | | |