I wrote my love letters on Rizla's and watched the smoke from them rise with something akin to tears in my eyes,
now what?

to hell with 'em
I'll scribe my love on sheets of vellum,
let the animal rights man
have sleepless nights
thinking of how bad I am.

There's a wall in the City
with these words written on it,
'Pity the Poor'
there are several bricks missing
and there's always a dog ******* up against it
,
I'm not sure why it's there
or what its purpose could be,
but I think
it's just a bit of
spray can charity
to make people feel good
about themselves.

I'm slipping away and far too often
jumping through tenses as I used
to jump fences,

the,  and then it eludes me
another line was lost,  
but you never get anything for nothing unless you get told something for nothing which sometimes doesn't mean anything at all.

I'm still thinking about the wall.