Diamond Of Skin Row

Poem By Kevin Patrick

Eating crow for the diamond of skid row
I was a mosquito who dreamed to be a toad,
Probing my proboscis for raw meat of gemstones
Squirting fresh venom for a goldmine of cortisone
Our zodiacs signs met at the intersection of fate
striking in a near fatal car crash like bait
The lunch lady gave us first aid
But she could only save us with sloppy seconds
But at least we got a souvenir tray
I remember it vaguely
But then I was a tourist
And your vain lacerations
Were sharply hard to notice
You can hear the water boil
As it turns into steam
Over the tin rooftops
where street princes Sing
And know one loves a beggar
Like a filthy dog
But I still I lose the race
Even though I race alone.

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I am not a poet
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