the sweat-coated gang of smooth-skinned punks
marching up and down the dimming alley
and some dog barking a brand new song
and some long-boned skinny kid
breakdancing like an epileptic
as the sun goes down and down
and the bats are sweeping,
swooping upon unsuspecting insects
and in the neighbor's backyard
a foolish pregnant girl is weeping
her face into a sausage pretzel
and all the cars seem angry
and all the stars are once again
waiting till the very last moment