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


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
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
the lotus eaters
play at night, play with life
like it is
musical chairs;
breaking down and
making up
coming and going-
and it may not seem it
but all they have
each other.


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