Chapped lips

There’s a certain time of night
When Line 9 is unforgiving
Take those five dog-tired Pakies
Heading to the sad part of town
Whispering among themselves
About dreams
That never were
You know that
Their only destination
Is slumlords country
One of them
Young and not hardened yet
Is delicately
Spreading Nivea cream
On his face
Winter wind
So bitter

Ellar Wise

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