Everything Costs

watching fights,
the blood sometimes drips
like the faucet
on pearl street, in mystic.

and the drunks, determined
are as likely to piss in the house
as a new puppy.
Sometimes they piss on your bed,
passed out and unresponsive.

hustling everything, the love, the compassion
i'd sell you my dreams for a bottle of wine,
i'd sell you my heart for your fantasies...
it's all for sale, every tragedy, every night

its what they call commitment:
being born into it
is often mistaken as talent

but getting out of it,
... now ...
that's skill.
the kind you won't find
on sunday.

the fights eventually end,
but the dripping faucet
on pearl street never did.