under a streetlight

inside the head of the new beat.

so there's this street corner
in the back of my head
and its always night-time
but never quiet

loudspeakers with
24 hour readings
of rimbaud
and bukowski

and the people on the sidewalks
get sick over little problems
its such a dysfunctional society
people scream from their upstairs windows

"give up on everyone!
you can move out and crash here!"

and sometimes i'm tempted to leave
for the city of permanent midnight
i can hear
jim carroll as he governs the
activities for the homeless
and everyone is happy for one day a year

this is where i belong
and yet
one must remember,
'its a nice place to visit,
but you wouldn't want to live there.'