Monday, June 9, 2008

Of Death, Love and Starvation

I found him in a cradboard box
down in the barrio
The stinch of death
the feel of subordination
the look of a scarecrow

we fell in love
made love under the bridge
had fried rat for dinner
fell asleep in the arms of destiney
in the sewage
under the stars

we shared our daily bread
and morning dose of cocaine
who cares about the living or the dead
in this city of eternal pain

hold my hand
cut my vein
let me bleed on the sidewalk
where we slept under the rain

lose hope in this life
for we have another
we slit out wrists
doze off into reincarnation
we are creatures of the night
without a law or a name
we don't apologize
we have no shame

we are the rats we fry
the bats that on our blood feed
the rabid dogs howling our cry
we are the ghosts and the evil seed

If we were only dead
we would live endless nights
making love on rooftops and graveyards
smoking our dope
dying with every sunset
without a care or hope
or a peice of bread

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