sub-poem #1

There's a psycho in the street
chain-dosing wax in the heat,
bread and water is all
is most all he eats,

always dancing
to an invisible beat,
strange dark son of some balmy clime
occasionally mutters something in rhyme,

drug-money deep in his sock
fingers around an azurite rock,
working a calculator half-the-time
always comes in for a social dime,
wolfs his mango with fresh-cut lime