Out in the rain
Don’t want to go in
I would
Sooner pay
To sleep in
A coffin
Even with
Dripping wet
Muddy clothes
All a mess
Of what I can attest
To being the coldest of nights
Of unrest
When from under a tin awning’s
Flickering light
I look out on this withering
Underworld’s
Plight
And recede to the shadows
Of how I can write
What the first world urbanity
Keeps out of sight
In its wish to forget
The injustice of wealthy
Elite kingdom’s
Debt
To the ones it regrets
To inform
Have no home
Just like me
Among them
In this city
Alone