1st street

Washing out

haze light hits the head

vacant fire scapes the threading foe

Carving in 

likened to a bow 

        you're smile

yours' smile

folding up 

stretching out the yawning mile

rolls of film and cigarette 

caught upon,

the hook and trades it in for teeth

holy me to find 

the creek

the crease of all the swallowed time

drinking all the time