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



says a flamingo in full raven body suit

thinking I'm undoused from soul's black night dance


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