oil dark on
city streets
gathers dusk
where old men
meet between
the bookies
and the pub for
as we scavange
high and low for
wood and waste
to make a glow
on bonfire night
the sky above is
purple black as
Annie scrapes
lipstick across
her tired lips
and on the corner
chisslers screech
a penny for the guy
mista but this mista
stops not on his way
with debts of honour
yet to pay on oil
dark city streets

10/23/2006

Posted on 10/23/2006
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