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.