Saturday, July 20, 2024

When Nighthood Was In Flotsam

 

The staff has snapped; the flag has been misplaced.

The Coconino County Bar & Grill

Breaks both its windows, locks the doors, and posts,

Send me a kiss by wire. Bourbon flows

Through the arroyos. Canteens burst with beer.

The news does not report. Tequila leaks

Upstream. The fish are dying for a drink.

No, sir, my realism is not an art,

Says Jenny Wren, the brickbat in my pie,

The neon in her undies, my patootie.

She shines from both sides now. The Bar & Grill

Has set cane chairs out on the promenade

And pointed them with seashell, which it sells

By the seashore, if only it were there.

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