Untitled, more beat.

When my cookfire overheats
and burns down the hermitage,
I shall homeless bum the nights
and dawns of white-guilty downtowns
and haunt bus stations
and drug dens alike.
I will rage though bloody beards
and beardless boys will slip
into comas of starlit
raindrop kisses awake.

you are only a body to them

d
e
s
c
e
n
d

before it's too late.