a moment in the din

song plays on the satellite,

a din beyond the counter top,

the empty buzz of conversation,

the ceiling cramps and idlewild guile,

a short line railroad sold,

sometimes I can’t hear anything..

and the slum is grinning,

a dim stream in where is my candlelight,

the sum of a night bribed and barbed,

and a dark piece of promise,

you know how the light plays,

downward dog has made me godless,

or maybe goddess,

as ashtrays grow,

and traps always have an unlock mechanism,

and so we’ll move in pole-positions,

half-mast, half-mustered,

and the taste of hot coffee in,

a bold brace where sometimes the juice sounds thin,

a thin vest is the passing chatter,

and when you clear the fog away,

it’s just the same..

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  1. 8planetsandamuse posted this