daemons

they follow me now

from the goodwill

thrift charity stores

when all I’m looking for

is a cut price shirt

pearlised buttons western cut

or a cheap coat for a cold day

& now I must stop

check my shoulders

look to close them down

the plaintives completely lost

granny wanting to find

her daughter gone somewhere

that ever wayward son

I would help them if I could

in their lonely quests

instead they trouble me in my sleep

directing dreams to shady areas

in vain attempt to communicate

so I must stand in the street

check for shadows on my shoulders

cleanse down looking the fool

to passing strangers

in some st vitus wobble dance

for if not

these would trouble like daemons

I must lead them toward that light

we must all in the end find

so be careful my beauties

in the home of the second hand chic

that cheap shirt may contain more

than you bargained for

a weary seeker

wishing to remain

to come home with you

fill your mind with sorrows

your mind theirs to trouble & gain