Old Town Fable Of Its Own Potential
People are licking the bridge
a foul bird of magnificence preaches it to me in one divine screech
Tells me beer-church-glue sniffing are falling from grace in the birthland
Tells me they're licking the bridge
lucid dreaming it to be the Colorado toad of a non-parallel river
casting off their daytimetvidentities laying themselves naked in their mindsMersey
Return!
says a flamingo in full raven body suit
thinking I'm undoused from soul's black night dance
Return
before your shapes no longer know each other
before you can no longer settle zusammen
caged on a three-piece suite in faux-leather
and turn to the ash of your halos slow fast
Return now!
emits comforting prostitute beak of Saturn
as the Moon smirks me thrown up Hubba Bubba, ceding all decision
---I'll wait---
howls my soul in its glittering, dusty thong
Sorrowful yet quietly confident
to see them
on this here dance floor