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Lorenzo Creaghe Jan 2015
debased heads crooked in the grey city winter
tiltinlikethestreetsisrollinyoudownintohell
sidewalk shufflinlimpinstarindodginhidin
holdin the eyescloudedpaincloudedlifecloudednothing

swayin on a thruway divider in rags and solitude
bentbackbrokenbackbentbackbroken
wearin nevernewshoes and holding a pushcartcane
filled with onemanstrashisthiswomanslife

my bornagainsinglemama sees thepooroldwoman
we pass in a gotbetterthingstodothanpityyou engine
she doin the teetertottersendmetumblinintotrafficpleasehappydance
in our eyes she no more than a label, no more than her vice

butthewheelskeepturnin
wegotmoreworktodolifetolive
andjustl­ikethatshegone
ifsheeverwasthere

— The End —