Tuesday, October 7, 2008


there's something
about these towns, a spark
lit small
on the avenues,
dressed up
in a bigger city's
i walk knowing
nothing, but,
is webbed
all around,
vague wisps hang
in the air
like lava in it's lamp;
each city i despise
on my way in,
and wave goodbye
on the outs,
exchanging smiles
like secrets between
old friends...
peripheral rolls by,
faster as we go,
the velvet ropes
like licorice
swaying and swirling
the edges
of this lucid
five day happy hour.


No comments:

Post a Comment

Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.