White trash-lovers,
Freaks for all they’re worth,
Anarchy in beady, brazen faces,
Seizing stares,
Standing ground.
Bland, gallus, gunslingers
Striding rooftops,
Gate-crashing dawn,
With punk rock squawks,
Claiming squatters’ rights
On stick legs, starfish feet.
Cold-calling meddlers,
Trawling inland,
Surfing the streets:
Scoping, probing, locating.
Beak-first gamblers,
Spinning laziness into recycling.
Maybe a nuisance,
But never gullible.
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