Corner of My Eye

Ladybug on my wrist strikes a simple pose and then flies.

Sitting man across from me wears housefly-hair and sunken eyes.

And he just wants another quarter for five quarts of forgetting sauce.

Knuckles white like embers ashen.

Clicks his jaw in neurotic time.

Face a strobe-lit street-light dance as subways screech their third-rail rhyme.

And I just want to see my girlfriend caus her hugs are the best

I know. Though

I'm gone I don't want us to end, but

I feel me slipping out the corner of her eye.

He just wants another quarter for five quarts of forgetting sauce.

And I play "couldn't-be-much-boreder" as

I'm watching the drunk in the corner of my eye.