Last Bender

Ten, less, five minutes to go

And dim are the days

Long and grey

And the hours are grim

Rain pours through the iron grate

Dirt slurries on the asphalt

Dim are the days and grey

Sky comes down like a scrim

Grim is the acid taste of rain

Running through the hair

Down the cheek

And into the mouth like a drain

Perfumed ladies, old and tawdry

Hold teas beyond the latticework