Revised sonnet #432
Its rudely raining while its boiling hot
And sweats a stain on steaming streaming mist
In hues of gray the cityscape is shot
To broken dreams of glamour prove I grist
The boots Ive licked if written longest list
The wrongest boots in far from fruitful haze
I pushed the barrow mine to make a fist
A luckier sucker set the flicks ablaze
Tibetan book of dead explains this phase
The weather canons create a silver screen
I died in dinky parts as self in greys
I haunt the cityscape as couldve been
This brain is dead and gray in fuzzy light
In faith a white of living lobes on site
Chorus light glow shine
