As I walk the streets of the East Village
a bag full of paper, pen and a pocket knife
the tight fright upon the face
obvious I'm in the right place at the wrong time

band of banshees
sadistic meth heads
one possibly could be the next vic
tomorrow's daily news

tonight unhinged
faux fear; I'm really scared
an alley cat timidly stalking the dark side
near the watchmen of life
wait to harvest unsettled bones
rattling along Village streets
marking their tombstones

tether those idling church restroom
his Father shadowing stain glass
removal of the last candle
and here you come mama and papa flower child
without your invitation . . . stoned

2011 Lepadah