I wish I could, for once, walk like him,
in crooked and curved lines,
without purpose.
Smell the wet earth or perhaps
filthier things with my moist nose,
filthier things with my moist nose,
without inhibitions.
Grimace and growl at adversaries,
men with phones walking them,
men with phones walking them,
without malice.
Make shameless love, while men hang up calls -
embarrassed - hurriedly apologize,
without intent.
I wish I could, for once, walk like him,
naked, on all fours, in dirt,
without
hesitation.