The East Village crust punks and their furry, four-legged friends
Hug city streets in a drug induced sleep
Like infants clinging to their slatternly mother
For she is indeed the one who sternly schools and scolds them
This cockroach clan of delinquents
Spreading beyond the green gates and benches of Tompkins Square Park
Contaminating the community, remaining under foot of pristine professionals
Until gentrification squashes them from sight.