a slow piano jazz
fills the bar, the smokey vibes
and cocktails, ice, glass clinks
of troubled minds feeling
weariness depart.
rain outside in the brick alley
way while memories of you
are plucked in emotional intervals;
inner skull, and they bounce around
reflecting this version of my life.
nothing beats A Dive to explore
all that. Those crystal tumblers
help the bone collectors as they pour; so
look at my cup, decide on the empty
or full. The music always on but they play the weekend only
and if it stops raining
the lightbulb for last call flares -
that brutal scathing feeling,
of the sun about to arrive
&circadian woes, musing, inside,
the mind. Ever present dropping.
Have you felt it? The falling awake or
asleep, doesnt matter...
sounds of bodies shifting from dancing
to chairs scraping the floor.
can be heard always
but no way it stays the same.
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