an alleyway croquet mallet
has offed me aside the cheek, mom
and hallow I ruse and relish and weep about it-
carrying the decaying,

I rush to greet certain death, only to find more construction sights
and cars, bothered by their metal and their enormous frames

and my cynical attitude, i know, turns no light for decent people

making invaliuable clauses out of merit heat, and I fear

out of rational and simple,

that I may have exchanged my promise for plea,

I ask the gods and my mother

of such a night like this,

that I may go in peace?

through this one,

at least