Before the letters curled,thoughts curled up for goodat the sight of bare teethwith coffee stains.And ugly swollen eyes thattell your age Now the mind must sleepas tomorrow seeps in
and a gnawing lurks outside the door.
But, perhaps its good to knowthe streets are safe no more. Clutch your cross and travel underground. Lest tentacles sproutof the alien beneath the skinand point at make shift bedroomson the street, or the bulging belly of the dusty child at your feet.
And drugs on days encoreAnd nights that end no more