One street, First for
bars, old speakeasies - stuck
thumb prints in modernity's
Rust lipped bilge-boxes.
Flappers burst into
just as fast
fleeting from world
an apparition that
presides once-in-awhile
in a now
come to excite this
Late night
sophisticates its inbred
nullity,
amid negative
ion airlets (snuck
from end of First)
which möbius-moth
their way
through every doorway's
chasm-ic Pulse.
For every chasm we
cross:
more drink, glasses set
above sticky waves which
emerge from
once smooth tabletops.
Three of us and
a pleasant addition plays
his always-plied guitar.
the Embodied apparition,
moments before
her tears,
opened everyman's pure
intentions.
ambiance Twists on itself
her lost keys, then humor
cleave world at, First.
...taking solidity it
Surrounds the flight of
fancy.
Flapper caught in full burst,
we talk Patience, the Moment,
and Liquids working us,
address downstreet
ions. Happily,
our movements
mandate motion.
At the end (almost
water-side)
like growths from
wronged ground,
six camels pervert
their necks skyward.
Five in "don't touch" distance,
one near.
the one near, we pet.
his damp bulbs
watching, deign us kind
but uncertain.
He foams gurgles-
but we know nothing
about camels.
She thinks he's sick
but says he's sweet.
moments recess in ambiance.
-the vehicle needs
a locksmith.
