Writing on the ground floor
Waiting,
To rise up before
Sun down
To wake up
Before bars close
To leave the kenneled
Dogs
Barking up a storm
I am waiting for the addiction
To take shape
Inhale the exhausted fumes
And lick the day’s sweaty face

I’m waiting for the race to start
I am wandering around

An empty racetrack
Watching dogs as they

Shit.
I forgot what I was talking about

(Hit me.
I’m all in
Hit me again
Black jack
You lose
Pay me,

“Gambling is in
My family tree
Our roots are long
And buried in the ground
We are a subway system…
I am a sewer rat.
This is my heart
You can have it…
This is my brain
Gladly take it.
They’re just puzzle pieces that never
Quite fit,
You can gladly have them)

Maybe you’ll have better
Luck…”

I am wandering a dog track
Looking for the boxed quinella
A dog named after a magic trick
I am watching
my disappearing act
shit.

One mistake
After another line up
Against lucky one
And born in the gutter

It’s a tight race
I just hope I can win
Enough for a bus pass
To get back in to town

come on disappearing act
Don’t let me down.