This Town at every turn a fire burns in this town crackling with old newspapers, turning pink the palms of those huddled around it i drink in every sound, every two temples down the road a brawl breaks out among hungry kids for a piece of someone's glamorous charity, broken into pieces and scattered on the road as if for birds neon lights on old vegetable carts, hiding under their bling the darkness of the soul that pushes it around all day endlessly, like a local sisyphus i