in the world with little grub
out of numbers, even zero,
and odd that rain now spits
on the never enough where
someone is left under leftovers
and someone sinks below 
from a blow to the head – hard
right to the lasting lust found
between the legs of what
might have been.  Was it
Zee-sight at 18 or simply
mistaken as a skinny old
81 with Miss Taken like Miss
            Universe on the verge
                                 of nothing?
3 a.m. maybe for Mauve &
Naive minus eight little grubby
fingers: Last Out turns off
the light of tomorrow, “so
sorry over your stillborn sorrow”