Howl
Location
From a bench I watched them walk,
all in a line,
the exertion of emotion dripping from each individual pus-filled,
black-headed pore,
twitching and moaning like dead men with gaping mouths and scarlet tongues
for a fix of the red and flesh drug
sold in porcelain-tiled, antiseptic bathrooms --
sanguine junkies pimping out fleshy wrists
for twelve more steel-tipped customers
to glide across guilty skin --
shaking from hunger and turning misty seafoam, brown earth,
blue sea-sky eyes to the wet and empty atmosphere
searching for some explanation of cold suffering
with prayers of whispered desolation lying shaking in mass graves of purple-
pink, plumped and pinched lips,
tripping out on baby's handfuls of swiped Benzedrine and Oxy falling deeper
(downer)
into the graveyards of neglected subconscious,
trying to forget.
I watched them walk together,
all in a Hitler's line,
shoulders thrown back and
proud.
Oh, they were all so proud.