Alone Poem by Dan Uriel

what delicacy let the poem will be
modular and crooked like a conical stick
when a crow cries around me, I will
I will sling a coin and my heart

now I'm looking in the phosphorus mud
fuzzy in the thread of life
and they all run because my soul is horrible
and if the hat is lost, the leg is at least fast
they dare not look back either

who will be with me, a triumphant, wild multitude
be with me even in the light that destroys my flesh
breakthrough me again with your cities
tore my song out like the golden tooth from an old mansion