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Weeds grow where they want to; not where they're told to...

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Michael Vowles

the lotus-eaters of skid row

 

at night the lotus eaters

of skid row

come out to play

more rat than man

more mongrel than woman

drunk on

cock

coked out of reality

cocking and coking

they do not feel

the heat

-alcohol keeps them warm at nights

and at night your belongings

are as good as their belongings

the whores work for free

arms and hands spotted with

black volcanoes

and the wise ones

are grey-and-white-haired farts

in tattered jackets and tracksuits

but no one can understand

them.

the lotus eaters

play at night, play with life

like it is

musical chairs;

breaking down and

making up

crazy

ecstatic

suicidal

coming and going-

and it may not seem it

but all they have

is

each other.

 

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