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let them eat cake
I sat, tonight, listening to Wilco, and, to Nick Cave,
in the neighborhood bar, called,
"The District"...
drank, one too many glasses, of what some, would call, "bad" wine...
Saw a curly headed boy, playing darts...
and, thought, of one Cuban man, whom, I have never met,
yet, who, I love the words, that pour, pouting, shouting, reeling, reveling,
out of fingertips...
in French Nursery Bleu.
I danced with Tiffany... the girl clown...
Breasts... such a milk filled thing...
Danced, outside, into the pouring rain...
Hearing, "The Sisters Of Mercy"... still on the sidewalk...
I will remember the handlebarred mustache of the ever lonely man.
Committed to sin.
Committed to what he thought was right.
Committed Sin.
the floods, of monsoons, which I love, and live for... the rain.
I couldn't get into the small apartment, without wading.
My little slippers, are all mashed.
I will lay them, on the floor, beside the kitchen sink, to re~shape themselves...
Beside, the silk, of covering, of tiny parrots.
Much, like we do, to our souls, each time,
we are caught,
inside the downpour.
Spending commas, like they're free...
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Currently listening :
Cure for Pain
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