We were getting down.  And dirty.  Hitting

Below the belt.  Our minds in the gutter.

The bottoms of our pant-legs becoming

The filth that horrifies well-healed mothers.

We were getting down.  The dumps dug yards deep

Around us.  Litter in every corner.

Crumbs on the counter.  Dishes of the week

Left in a sink full of fetid water.

We were getting down.  Business, like a thumb

Pushing a stuck, broken button, on our

Minds depressing what feels like thirty tons

Per square inch at a hundred miles per hour.

We were getting down.  Flattened by a truck.

But when he climbed, things started looking up.