Lonnard Dean Watkins
He Would
he
would
sit there,
drunken eyes
peering out upon
the blur of a meaningless world
he
would
wander
city streets
following shadows
along endless concrete pavements
he
would
grumble
to himself
incoherently
his views to the unhearing world
he
would
leave, when
under the
heartless silent moon,
death called, and left empty handed
