New York Poem #1

Day dwindles into darkness.
Warning lights strobe sans
sirens, epileptic throes. Yet

Lucrative lackeys liaise with
luddites and lepers alongside
lesser known lords with
lozenges on limbs and
little appendages

Smurk holds out for a context
in which his true desires may be
revealed slowly. He considers

Voices like vacuums stealing
valor from variegated vocations;
vermin vindicating vaudeville
verisimilitude visaged as

That we all may be parasites.
Mind turns to fields of immanent
verdure, difference