Original Creeps

August 7, 2018

The older the city, at sunrise -

original creeps been walking the streets

after crawling the ceilings

Still looking for love 

like a winning lotto;

like feet on hot asphalt 

strings of rubber and sunburn

You're baby's that weak knee'd knockout-

twenty-four hours of return


The sadder the story, sometimes

Orwellian kid, when it hit the skids,

did you get here on Greyhound?

Is it coming and going at will, 

like the squirrels in the walls?

Or is it disappearing like telephone booths?

Long distance collect, pay-phone calls

Kid strange and clever, dark and deranged

Never, no never ever change


Now, the night lasts longer on your feet 

but time is too sure for sit-down, 

too curt for discourse 

It's too cruel to rewind or repeat

Singing to yourself: There's grass somewhere 

and it's green

I won't have to walk too far, I think

There's grass somewhere and it's green.



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