Corner of my eye

Ladybug on my wrist strikes a simple pose and then flies. Sitting
man across from me wears housefly-hair and sunken eyes. And he
just wants another quarter for five quarts of forgetting sauce.
Knuckles white like embers ashen. Clicks his jaw in neurotic
time. Face a strobe-lit street-light dance as subways screech
their third-rail rhyme. And I just want to see my girlfriend
caus her hugs are the best I know. Though I'm gone I don't want
us to end, but I feel me slipping out the corner of her eye. He
just wants another quarter for five quarts of forgetting sauce.
And I play "couldn't-be-much-boreder" as I'm watching
the drunk in the corner of my eye.