Sunday, September 21, 2008

'leaving town blues'

tonight you sit, inside the rain
tasting a wine, I'll not visit again.
fog settles upon your window,
kisses the panes, hugs your self and
you recall, an old record, a boy once played
for you at his own expense,
where the man sang to the darkest hour
that comes right before the dawn.
But there is to be no dawn, not in this town,
not for me.
I'm homeless, unknown amongst them yokels
you despise so much, yet care more
about the foam falling off their mouths
to their feet.
and these streets blow, poison air
to me from you
as I swear I'll leave your town,
before the coming of the morning dew.