A man running in the rain to Jaures, although his belly hollow
in a distant dream he was part u 'at the Tour GAN.
His bag contained a letter from Ed ANPE. He
sleeve opposite the circus gypsy caravans. A mad
begs hundred bales indifferent to passersby.
They know it is a star, a solar junkie, who
allows himself to blend into the death spiral of a slow
watching for his next client, a vicious lawyer.
A cul-de-cripple hobbles on a lonely stay.
It's been a while he put the other leg on a nail;
then he fell down, trembling and swallowing air.
He said it's too early to finish in a hole.
A bum wriggling on an air vent;
in his sleeping bag with holes, he too the loose.
Like a wild beast, he defends his last bastion,
but he is too lazy to go save flouze.
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