The Prophet and the Pendulum

There is more love in a hyena’s ******* Then there is in an old whores face. Only her cheap perfume is enough To distract the eyes away By filling the nostrils Of a thousand lousy men. Each one Allowing her to be a virgin again For thirty dollars a pop! And a Spanish guitar Plays to a drunk on the sidewalk Who points away to the Moon and Has a look in his eyes that says, ‘I’ve been somewhere, kid.’ ‘I’ve had one helluve ride!’ And the night bleaches the colour black. Illuminated only by the white neon of promise. And the night-crawlers crawl. And the shadows pray to the heavens, And somewhere in the distance The sun rises on a new day.