Holy Apostles Soup Kitchen


In Uncategorized on September 22, 2016 at 6:09 pm





I lie awake at night

Amazed at how quickly deep dark begets the daylight


I lie awake at night

Unimpressed by headlight flashes that give false pretense to the moon


I lie awake at night

Waiting for tree branch shadows to reach down from the ceiling to caress me


I lie awake at night

And cower as the tree incarnate beats fiercely against vinyl siding


I lie awake at night

Because I am too cold to be comfortable, but too warm to wander

From beneath one blanket in search of another


I lie awake at night

And think about when I didn’t do so alone

We’d chat or brood, but together




I would lie awake at night

Annoyed by your snores

Or being drenched by your sweat




I would lie awake at night

Concocting methods and devices to make your passing seem natural


So now…


I lie awake at night

And marvel at how slyly slick darkness creeps into bright light




I lie awake at night


and then


I lay alone in morning

Knowing that we are all better off this way.


-Stephanie Lawal

The Discreet Banquet of the Comfortable Class

In Food, Prose on September 16, 2016 at 1:05 pm


Seeing the picture of the banquet table generates a mixture of associations. Someone once said life is a banquet and many poor suckers are starving. That’s not an exact quote, but I’m certain you get the general idea. Food can be about sustenance, community, or abstinence. Often those hazard a career in the arts find themselves unwittingly playing the role of hungry artist. Frequently it is more about famine than feasting. One gig may pay exceedingly well. The next may pay virtually nothing at all. If you’re doing well you may have the luxury of the incestuous elite. It also allow for an awareness of how certain life choices lead one down a road that is far afield from what many consider to be “normal” or mainstream.

Sharing a meal with others can have outcomes that vary. How many holiday family get-togethers degenerate into combat? Hidden rivalry, resentment, and misunderstanding come to the fore. Asking someone to pass the salt can easily turn into an act of war.

When I was quite young, I spent hours in the library reading. Everyone said that would-be writers should read. I read and always enjoyed reading. One of the first things I read by Kafka was A Hunger Artist. The metaphorical aspect of this story contains much having to do with the hazards of artistic life. At least that is the notion in a painfully real and vivid manner. Of course there is humor inherent in the darkest aspect of it all. A person who starves to death professionally can have a laugh or two from time to time. Maybe a professional hunger artist’s life is the ultimate punch line delivered by the ultimate sick comedian.

Hunger has many aspects. There’s the physical hunger for food, the metaphysical hunger for something that palliates the ineffable dread that characterizes even the most smug, secure existence; the kind of existence that allows for one to sup in elegant places.

-Bern Nix

Never Give Up

In Uncategorized on September 9, 2016 at 1:02 pm



Stop – Can be a dangerous world.

My life living on the street over twenty-five years not knowing where and what corner I’ll doze off in, knowing the staff will kick me out. But life is a gamble, I thank God for the church. We’re allowed to sleep on the steps and wake up for the “run” or anyone who wants to donate food or anything. It doesn’t matter if it’s 40 degrees or snow, rain, below zero, this is where I sleep and how I sleep. Getting my cardboard boxes together each night. Sometimes I don’t sleep, just walk around all day taking care of my business, trying to get something to eat from the soup kitchen and volunteers outside. But when I sit down outside, that’s when people get very mad, when you are on private property, they hit you, yell at you to wake up. My nerves are shocked after a time. Showers are at scheduled times in designated places. At times I don’t feel like showering, but I know that odor builds up after wearing the same clothes daily, but no one will come close to smell me. Yeah, everything fits in my five shopping bags filled with things I need. People don’t feel I need all these bags.

-Precious W.