Written December 3, 1991 on a dark and stormy night.

 

Gutter Dogs

what voice is it,
the night speaking?
rattling through the gutter like a stray dog
stealing dreams from sleepers
taking silence from the wind

hush, and hear the stranger
on the rooftop telling lies
listen to the madness
of the creaking metal sighs

ponder on the meaning
of the movement in the dark
hear the growling grumble-moan
of an evening cold and stark

lie for sleepless hours
with the irritating sounds
the night is speaking loudly
with the voice of metal hounds

 

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