on the gravy trainwith their ugly souls painted
plainly on their faces.
only their black cat eyes
only their moon light smiles begging for attention.
And all the little boys, like ashes . . .
all the little boys, like angels--
twisted wings
and side-cocked halos.
Stiff as a board, light as a feather
clawing their ways up
stiff as a board, light as feather
creeping into captured hearts.
I knew a boy like that once;
I knew that boy so well.
he had what Hesse would call "the mark"and screamed out the call, the "curious call."
he was
candy dangled in front of the starvingfever collapsing the lungs.
To be
into his grip
sinking into his throat
wrapped around his fingers . . .
a price never too high to pay
as
All the little boys
Lining up to face the darkness
of another dawn.