Ugly truths and beautiful poems. The palm trees in the park are the closest I get to paradise. I watch Indian mothers with takeaway children. I hear New York is a lawless city, and youth is a flawless beauty and we made a sawdust treaty. Here the young men take off their shirts and open beers. Fear doesn’t always exist in just the shadows, cows in the paddock are tomorrow night’s dinner and one madman in the crowds and it’s death by a sharp smile. Intoxication was my alibi, rock n roll was my lullaby.