It’s strange that kinship in species is not enough to make relationships-- that our clothing, smell, location, and career have so much power over our interactions. A friend, who is currently wandering through the U.S. with a backpack and a bike, reminded me of this when we rode on the D.C. Metro and people were glaring at him for his appearance. So what? I thought. You have no idea what his story is.
At the same time, I was reminded of how often I don’t care to know, either. So, meeting David Denny the next day was a shock to my system. I met him first by not meeting him at all. I read his poem in a newspaper:
“Captive Love”
I cannot capture on paper the sense of the macabre, the gray
Or the wan expressions of a gloomy day.
My pen cannot describe in words the pain
A ravaged soul pours out like rain.
And I cannot draw a picture of the darkness inside
That soul where insecurity, fear and doubt hide.
I cannot capture on paper the fate
Of lost souls that harbor hate,
Or the evil thoughts buried below
Where the seeds of evil start to grow
However, let me express the wonders of love
That comes [sic] from an infinite Heaven and the stars above.
I cannot capture the subtle emotion that comes into a mother’s eyes
And the warm embrace that soothes when her baby cries.
I would like to express that there are wonders in love
And the saving grace from God above.
- David Denny, Street Sense, Volume 19: Issue 8. Reprinted with permission
I read “Captive Love” on Thursday morning-- after the Tuesday Happy Hour and Wednesday’s conference. I remember thinking I had found a kindred soul in a writer struggling to find the right words. But I left it at that. In fact, the same morning, I had purchased a collection of W.H. Auden poetry and I left my sense of relationship as a distant affection. I don’t expect the gap between the poet and the reader to be bridged. (For one, Auden is dead, so I’m not exactly eager to meet him.)
Joking aside, I soon met a friend for lunch. While we walked, I noticed a man wearing a lime-green vest. It had the words “Street Sense” on the front. So, I stopped for a practical reason. I had bought an issue of this D.C. street paper on Wednesday and was curious if this was a daily publication.
The man went ahead and explained that it was a bi-weekly paper. He called himself a homeless advocate and he had a great, big smile and a musical voice. I remember laughing a lot. Then, the man flipped to the last few pages of the paper, pointed to a poem, and introduced himself.
This was David Denny in the flesh. I looked up at him and just laughed some more. He was clean-cut, dressed in a pair of sturdy jeans. After we talked a little, I gave him my KNO button and we parted. It was a short meeting during which the sky did not turn red and the media did not race to cover a story on our ground-breaking compassion. Simply, David and I were on the corner of 18th and I NW Streets, talking and laughing and saying goodbye.
I guess the shock was just how easy it was to meet my “kin”. Maybe the stars aligned the night before so David and I could meet. Yet, I’ll bet this isn’t about waiting for planets to shift. Maybe our gaps-- cultural, systematic, personal-- are bridged for us already by the fact that people are just people! We talk. We say goodbye. It’s not Herculean. Just human.
*You can usually find David Denny selling Street Sense on 13th and Penn (CVS) during the week and 7th and Penn on the weekends. If you see him, say Hi!
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