Eighth Street

I took a train
past 8th street
not knowing
that I'd never
stop... there
was an un-
earned thing
called grace,
but it did not
fit me any-
where...

The landlady
was unrelent-
ing in her beliefs,
room rentals
did not include
meaning.

I was as good
as anyone who
had tumbled
into sackcloth...
a unit of mea-
sure was made
from my coat...

if, buddy, you
think wearing
medals is strange,
try your own skin
for protection...

The rail ran,
then,past eighth
street... she was
sleeping still when
I locked the door
behind me... no
body deserves
bullshit... not you.
not me, not
anybody...