On the corner of midnight and forever...

On the corner of midnight and forever,
with a useless phone,
a drunk is singing up the alley,
“baby, won’t you please come home”

decaying street is littered,
a thousand empty dreams,
sweeper comes along each morning,
bulging at the seams

old cat goes a- slinking,
on a well-worn trail,
ears all drooped and fraying,
missing patches on his tail

Bukowski feels right here,
‘bout as right as rain,
time to shuffle on,
get up on that train,

head on back to the truth,
to the ugly little town,
where no one seems to notice
all the sickness going round,

spin their webs a-plenty,
gossamer in flight,
snare the wounded soldiers,
staggering through the night

O sing your song, old alley-man,
I’ll be lonely this whole damn fall,
the coyotes are so far away now,
I can barely hear their call

and when I wake next spring,
a-ringing in my ears,
no one will hear my soft little sighs,
no one will see my tears

yes, this night is home,
to all the lonely beasts,
who room the streets and howl,
from a Pyrrhic inner heat

old Rome had its share,
we think we invented the tune,
wolves have been a-hunting,
forever ‘neath this moon

but let me stand a moment,
in this wan, mercurial light,
it’s still all so beautiful,
let me see it right