8 swords of binding

palmetto rose,  sword hidden in a cross
these are things that  might be  tossed
like names upon the vacant  streets
where winter  rain  comes in  for  keeps.


under the awning he's  hungry  and wet
works a  frond into  a  bet
that  he  can  tease a buck  or two
for  food  or  drink from  someone who


strolls by  with  a lady on  his  arm
trying  to impress and charm
her  with his generosity perhaps
or lack of animosity. in fact


any rationale  will do.  art  works
these streets in desperation,  quirks
and  kinks the inspiration,  hunger
too  lurks under  balconies,   sunders

sense from reason.  artistry  a meal  unfilling,
he makes the  rose  do  all the  killing 
 the  sword disguised as  cross is willing
sacrifice for  love's small shilling.