Sleep without dreams,
A drowning with no water,
A hanging without rope,
Fire with no smoke,
The pavement,
The anvil, upon it the nail sits,
Beaten too many times,
Let it be the gallows.
…
A portrait of a homeless lad sleeping on the pavement on Clay St. 4 o’clock in the afternoon, beneath a still hot sun he slept, blanket rolled out, head facing downhill, feet pointed up, mountain dew soda by his side.