Cold Starry Nights

I lean low, wrapped in blankets for the night,  
With eyes cast down for my mind's wholly locked  
Around the fear that someone's bound to blight  
My sleeping on the pavement: who'd be shocked,  
Since they know stars are pitiless and cold?

And, for that matter, no one really cares  
What thoughts I have. Late passers-by are sold  
On snug log fires and cosy beds upstairs;  
For who would share inevitable thoughts:  
What happens once the shadows muster?  
Rapes.

What can the girl in side alleys be taught?  
Exactly what her place is? Open grates  
Wash tears away and streaks of male roe,  
That, like cold, starry nights, make her lean low.