Early in the morning And insatiable A drifter on the dock Washes what was once The stain of love. 100 crooked footsteps I flounder Under the hail From beach to door With a painful thrust I dream of Julie As branches danse To a witches brood I shake a stick And ask what am I Am I not happy? I am of age Yet beauty’s fatal kiss Docks itself 100 crooked footsteps From my door Crow faster Crow stronger