The Devil Tattood My Left Hand Poem by jerome moore

Being a boy of the hand and toes
of honorable highs, of desolate lows

Walking one morning,
crawling one morning,
I arrived in the market,
I arrived at the square.
The vendors lined the streets,
The poor lined the streets.


The devil tattood my left hand.

The poor venders lined the square.
They plucked my lashes,
but when I found you sitting there,
I plucked my hand strings.

To do this again, Id deny everything my crime, this desire, the poor and my hand.
and point my finger elsewhere,

It's better to give than recieve,
(it's better to steal)

Being a boy of the land
I cut away my hand
and I planted highs and I planted lows.