Often they come back early, after cracking the dawn
Or they return late – one doesn’t know which it is.
The wee hours are on their side.
They mumble, bellow, roar or chant, hum hymns of delusion.
They litter in parks or on pavements, pee in public places.
Profundity has vacated them.
They fly in easy, with their best men on Fool’s day.
They view the city as their [...] Continue Reading…
