Money hungry,
the hairy blacked belly,
growls like a street mutt guarding his,
conquered bird,
his belly shines rib bones,
his nose is dry,
too many nights,
prowling potholed downtown slummed streets,
his rib cage glows,
like a diamond,
or a pond late at night,
his paws are sore and bulge like his glorious-mutt-society-tortured eyes,
I offer him my silence,
still,
with my eyes on his,
my body sore with long legs lovers,
and sleepless A.M. Nights,
and we both agree,
to part ways,
and leave him to his bird,
and me to the nights,
and that seemingly endless orange illuminated road,
with my paws in my pockets,
looking for my bird.
