bakery, city, midnight
down
in the dupster behind the bakery
in the dark alley filled with puddles of oil and rain water
that’s where i was born
it’s where i’ll die
wake
sleep
i can’t get no rest
always more lumps of trash thrown in
so i stay up and walk the streets
i think think think til i can’t think no more
and then i lay down on the old bread and sleep.
