392
at a bus-stop
third day of the Rooster Year
it's pissed-off day
out here on the street
everyone's over it
the new year again so what
they're complaining about everything
the name of the place they say
so's to disparage
it's become a curse
why did they come here?
everybody wants an explanation
but they're not giving up
no way not yet
apologies are overdue
nor are they forthcoming
everyone's shouting
no taxi stops
the buses never come
no rain
no wind
it's rather warm
but all of this can change
some cruel truth
is sinking in
but they're not giving up
not yet no way
some of course seem stoic
but that must be a front
more of them are pointing at
and some punch the air
look at the way they look at each other
they don't want to hear another excuse
this was a family once
it still is
how smartly they're dressed
speak all at once
and over each other
red in the face
it's all 'if only' business
faster and faster
louder and louder
you can't call it talk anymore
if only if only
but they're not giving up
not today not now
if only thinking
taken too far
leads back to wishing
one hadn't been born
there's a lot to be said ofr staying at home
if they weren't already drunk
I'd say they need a drink
the key word is recrimination
the situation is somebody's fault
the lulls that come suit spitting
one descends into a nervous twitch
another looks as if to strike
laughter would be cruel
and then it won't let up
laughter dissolves them
guilt splits however many ways
and then the day, grim day, remains
but they're not giving up
not yet no way
here's Misery and Company
and how's their conversation?
all furtive glances from a screen
the real world has them each in hand
make a list begins with dignity
with self-esteem, with pride
the miracle waited for them
but had to give up
they have lost everything
there's nothing left to lose
but they're not giving up
not yet no way
they're going back to the casino now
they teach a kind of calm
Perfect poem, Kit...but the hangover will be much worse.
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