The Day I Lost You In The Crowd

On the first Willie-Burg stop I was either there or nowhere
With a cliche half held cigarette, one among poets
fake tourist poets, broken glass spread over the current,
into the current, one and the co-rent.

Sirens were heard to say “can't intimidate whats not sober”
I was there on my 5th straight day with my promise to soon recover
with the cure one discovers, when what was good is done
on to another, on to another.

Fashion was art and art was ripe, ripe for the fucking
Everyone is in demand, and it has began, on moves in the market
with bonds in perverted pockets, novelty ash treys
sold at the boarders, sold at my corner.

That was the day I lost you in the crowd
The day I lost you in the crowd.
I might had seen you grab a cab,
The day I lost you in the crowd.