Winter nineteen fifty five
Cold morning, in a public men's room
The warmth settling like haze
I was loitering
Dirty, lonely, hungry
The sycamores were bare
The street almost empty
A dog followed
A trash cart
My right hand slipped in
Through the hidden hole of my pants pocket
I was imagining with a hungry heart
One to love like a flame, in a public men's room
Light sliced in like a painful knife
And made the mud ahead blaze
The warmth settling like haze
I was loitering
Dirty, lonely, hungry
The sycamores were bare
The street almost empty
A dog followed
A trash cart
My right hand slipped in
Through the hidden hole of my pants pocket
I was imagining with a hungry heart
One to love like a flame, in a public men's room
Light sliced in like a painful knife
And made the mud ahead blaze
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