Walking down this city street -
pop sizzle and thrum,
Friday night sturm-
angst throbbing
doors slung open,
tables spilling,
concrete river
humming chit
chatter chortle
laughter escalating
desperation slinging
pomegranate mojitos,
appletinis, cabernet
sauvignon, goat
cheese pizzettas,
sly bullshit to air
space, words suspend
vapid in boom-boom-
boomlay-boom bass
clicking heels
lacquered nails,
innuendos bubble
champagne, lipsticked
rims, sighs, hopes
promises unfurled
whispers--I am
sated in the comfort
of my skin.
***
A snapshot of Boston's Newbury Street this past Spring 'round midnight... a detour on the one-year anniversary of the LANGUAGE>PLACE Blog Carnival, created and hosted by the inimitable Dorothee Lang. Check out the 24 destinations on the colorful map, then read on. Peace...
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nice riff here that could keep on going..
ReplyDeleteThe rhythm and language of this piece really suited the time of night.
ReplyDeleteLoved this! To be sated in my own skin while the world whirs around me--that would be wonderful.
ReplyDeleteLoved the midnight colour in this.
ReplyDeleteI particularly love this part at the end:
ReplyDelete"sighs, hopes
promises unfurled
whispers--I am
sated in the comfort
of my skin."
A micro poem on its own!
Lovely work. Lovely words.
ReplyDelete