Unfinished Poem

There’s a hole in my shirt
Letting the clockworks show,
My hat wants to fly away,
Join the night sky circus
While my shoes grumble along
Mooching along the greasy pavements
With drunkard precision.

Fumbling with the keys
Wind me up an I’ll speak just the truth
About all my fictional accounts
Better jus wind me down
I’ll sing you sweet lies
In a rusty bourbon voice,
Slightly bitter and burn, with a cherry in.

Thas me all over
Pinballed between parked cars
“Hey buddy!! Spare a smoke…
I got two bits, some thread, an three kisses like wounds
Fair trade, promise
Put ‘em on your watchfob
Or pin ‘em to your lapel, all red and dripping.”