The tattered sign read: VACANT.
A dirty light grasped at the diming rays of intention
And emptiness invited the vagrant
Thoughts of hope & despair to commiserate
Upon the loss of worldly enterprise;
Of wealth, of riches and of material possession
For instead, escaping into the flight of blank eyes
Feathered by dullness and veils of inebriate.
The women in the room are not;
The men in the place can be either; or neither
A flame that yearns to flee beyond
all vanities.
For this sick and ill time leaves its stain and blot.
Look at the garish faces peering out the windowed frames-
Their bodies are based on abusing and failing
Of all norms and expectations lost to the endless nights
When reason and sanity take on oddly strange names.
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