How passed the night for you?
Alone but surrounded by those
Damaged, lost trapped souls
With their hard-luck sagas,
Their hard-look stares,
Peeling-paper rooms
Reached by gin-steadied stairs.
Where you pay for desperate promises,
Offering guilt and gold you do not have;
Desperate for forbidden-passion positons:
Cold, old meat arranged
In yesterday-sweat ‘n’ piss sheets.