on the wet
filth strewn
streets
I walk
god knows
where
pointless
brooding
unloved
unloving
unwise
unkind
unbeknown
to all who
once
called me
friend
I turn
the corner
any corner
a corner
to find
him
sprawling
across the gutter
neck
pierced
by docker’s
hook
there is
no point
no point at all
in checking
the cold alone
would do it
the blood
runs
black

why
can I
not dream
as
other
people

09/04/2006