as the line is drawn across her face and hands
under a darkened sky, and bad circumstances
losing hope for the cure of
these deadly diseases
has brought out the dogs
who’ve been starved
to pump their aggression
in the grays that last for days
met with time that’s got no meaning
found herself on soaking roads
a cigarette between her lips
and a race against a rain
that dares to
tap her fragile ceiling
left with nothing good
to say
riding silent
in a loud and forceful way
daydreams lead the car
past huddled fools with ugly faces
and dogs too sick to try and stay dry
she’ll end up as lost as she could ever be
and will find him in her need
the wretch of a man
called Henry
1985
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