as i have not trusted i have not hoped in the bleak alleyways and the secondhand streets where misery waits and the turn of your hand
as i have not believed so i have not seen the uselessness the pettiness and in by the clouds are the sun and the stars by the walls and the rain i shall not come to you for tea as you may come back home with me not believing and not seeing the facts yapping into our face alternate fire alternate smoke i shall not wake at seven or eight as all the hours are now too late with the lead weights motionless i spy with my little eye
you and i my love you and i with our backs to each other chewing on shadows dissecting the lights that their brightness might be classified and then emasculated and finally killed