Shadows At 3AM

The old man
Sat Laughing at
The floor White feather
Dove
Died
Just outside he
Window
Pain in his heart
He eat
Dry hard bread
Drink cold
Stale
Water
Smiles
At wood lice
Burrowing
Under his wall
And carpet
Rolls up butts
From a bag
He had collected
On his evening pilgrimage
Through a dirty city
Rolls his tongue in his cheek
And cries out
BALLS
To the shadow men
Dancing on his walls.