Tuesday, July 10, 2012

A Quarter, A Dime, and Two Copper Pennies

I ease gently
through an up
to no good
night
down lawless
city streets
like Heroin
running through
veins

like a lonesome
locomotive
bound to
iron tracks,
a snare drum
and tuba song
on a loop
with no good end
in sight.

Plucking a smoke
from my lips
my arm falls limp,
dropping filter
and cherry with no
effort at all.

A brown paper
wrapped
beer can blows
in the gutter,
dancing down
the curb
with cast off
orange caps
that guarded
points and rigs
and were
never needed again.

Thirty-seven
cents sits
quietly at the bottom
of my pocket
waiting for
a dollar and
8 A.M. when
they will be called
on to get
a start on the new
day.

My heart is broken
in now, tougher
than it once was
but I hum a song
about two kids
in love and Tastee Freeze
chili dogs.

I'm loaded
in the night
like a smack
laden vein, and I
sing a song about
two kids who
were once in love.