The wild man of the city is a strange beast indeed
Swinging from the bars. Moving amongst the cages.
When he sits in his apartment, his ass stabs down
Through three floors to reach the ground
The ants crawl all over his soul.
Plays hide and seek with the skyscraper obscured sun.
When that guy in 3d didn’t come out
For seventeen days, he could smell why.
He can read the weaving like the tabloid.
When the sweltering summer heat rages
His balls throb along with that beat.
For totems he talks to rat, roach or pidgeon
Poised, posed on the ledge or fire escape
From there, see the park where (as a mockery)
Only assigned trees grow