Hambone City


They were a callin and a-growlin’ and a-foulin’ and a fallin’,

as they slid on the stones under blacksmith skies.

Light bulbs swingin’ , the sore throats singin’,

the rain it was stingin’ their hell-hound eyes.

Hot on their heels and cold in their tracks,

one eyed cowered on the sour trash they devoured,

The other watchin’ over their mangy backs.

They were  ballin’ and bitchin’ and barkin’ their lungs,

sinkin’ the mud while sinkin’ their jaws

Shakin’ their necks, slappin’ their tongues,

devouring the streets, leaving tracks of their paws.

They stopped for the night and they pissed where they stood,

their gums flashed black and they lowered their heads

Stared at each other while the rain hit the roof,

the first one asleep is the first one dead.


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