You may find what you're looking for down the alley of dangerous angles.

Down by the dumpster
the beggar man sips pumpkin spice latte.
He's counting pi, counting down.
It can reach zero in the alley of dangerous angles.

There's a takeaway run by Takers,
a street sign walking through walls
of a Georgian house drowned in moral decanters
Physics don't always add up in the alley of dangerous angles.

Inside the house
where they talk to themselves, to the TV
about the wages of sin, of sex, debauchery.
There's nothing complex about the alley of dangerous angles.

Sometimes there's a dog
lurking under dead trees
watching smoke pour out to sea.
He's digging up the root of the alley of dangerous angles.

Oh you may find what you're looking for down the alley of dangerous angles
but mind the edges.




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