we run and   run because
this tide is hitting you now
when the moon pulls
and you sit back then
look for quiet gardens…

I hit the street…
The street hits back
Hard and unforgiving.

When the stars are hard
And the run is on
Cards hit the table
And you know your time
In this ville is burnt.

You reach for familiar loved ones
And try to talk

Your dreams
Are of close friends and family
The typewriter is a familiar
And you spin weird magicks
The tide is up and hunger
Hits your guts.

The run is on
You start the sweat
Nerves seem peeled back
And let you know its on.

You hit the street
And now it knows your name.

© John Tench, 2015
http://www.johntench.com/johntench/bio.html

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