The Shambling Darkness Project

Toes down to boss line right
Toes bent to sand and light

Dust or money lurking to
History, to maps to calipers

When I was a kid there was a cloud.
When I was older I watched a man
Twist a cigar on a bench on Lincoln.

It was night, there were no clouds
But beach sand lurked everywhere

People walked on bent toes,
People watched, ignoring
The sleeping men in their designer
Filth and body smells.