All The Fixings

There we were

On St. Anthony Main

On the deck of Picosa

We anxiously passed a bag

We had smuggled into this world

At dawn of our nonprofit service year

We all ordered some cheap beers

Some even-cheaper $1 tacos

The bag held contraband

In the form of dairy

Shredded cheese

The tacos arrived quickly

Topped with ripe red tomatoes

Our bleeding hearts had assembled

Ones that were sliced and diced for a year

Never coming out of the experience the same

Human service had taken our beliefs, thoughts

Turned them on their head, made us silly

Idealism took shots, developed wounds

We could not save the world, perhaps

We could learn to save ourselves

Our tomato hearts, in pieces

The black beans

They were the gas

Provided our energy

They fueled us to vistas

Previously untouched

Visceral experience

Away from shelter

Hard shell for some

Others asked for soft

We all had our outlook

Our approach toward others

But make no mistake about

The genuine desire to hold

Things together for those

Who struggled with it

The fillings, just like

We all do at times

The cheese

Shredded cheddar

It was what we brought

Not much to offer this table

A cheap way to fake being cultured

Toppings too cheap to pay for on-site

Our experience left us all without money

We just hoped it would come together

In the end, when we left it behind

Separate, from what we made

The bleeding heart tomatoes

The passionate bean energy

The tortilla of dedication

Getting stuff done

Or trying at least