I once was lost
Until I drown
On Water St.
Helpless was found
Russian roulette
With five wins in a row
Angels exits
Or death I would know
I’ve swam here often
Deep holes I know well
Sin in the alleys
Stories I can’t tell
With fire I’d mixed
A brew of resent
Unable to forgive
Life lacking repent
Native fish
Feeding on silt
Swimming up currents
Un-nourished by guilt
Over my body
Lifeless and dry
Brought back from the light
Eyes too tired to cry.
I’ve come to my senses
Forging myself
Water St. attracted a Pisces
Who’s now found souls’ wealth.
Jack Dylan 7/17/06
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This sounds almost forgiving, of yourself and those still lost tortured souls seeking their happiness on Water St. I get this so well.