Poppy's Story

Paul Grondahl with Poppy's Story in seven chapters (thanks, Brendan). Here's the first: ALBANY — "I ain't nobody, boss. I ain't nobody."

The man was wrapped in three layers of thermal wear: coveralls, snowmobile suit, down jacket. He wore a wool hat with earflaps.

He had come to a South End food pantry for a free lunch on a Saturday in January. Outside, it was wicked cold. A biting wind knifed up from the Hudson a few blocks away — lip-chapping weather.

He'd spent the night outside, he said, and had been living on the streets, more on than off, for eight years. Right now, home was a blue-tarp shanty near the 787 overpass, down by the river.

"Wanna see it?" he asked. He leaned in close, gauging…