PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

A man down on his luck is stuck between two midnight lamp posts,

A  soggy letter from his lover in his back pocket giving him a long winded kick in the ass goodbye,

The rain falling sideways plays natural chords on unsuspecting metal till the almighty maestro gives the ok to give way,

the last of them are piling out of the bar,

little dominos just a gag game for the gods, 

drunken stumbling sing song for the saturday night air,

Keep the party rolling,

The only thing the gangs got on its mind is more wine,

booze,

something,

tap your feet like the mad men in the street,

Cheeks' been blowing all night,

White as the smiling moon-ghost,

Too hard and out of tune,

the radio dial doesn't flinch an inch,

All those gag game dominos pile into an apartment not fit for fleas,

the place moves man,

shakes and tilts,

Kandinsky,

Pollak,

Rimbaud,

Arguments better settled wrestling with toes,

But it's still shaking jack,

I mean really swinging,

Clap

There's an exuberance only experienced by roller coaster riders and high stakes gamblers,

Down on his luck and sick of midnight lamp posts the man hears the party above his hung head,

a million god-damned kangaroos must have gotten into some 100 proof booze up there,

A voice appears,

Seen more than heard,

crickets playing their homemade leg violins,

Some hear it,

There is no words,

Just whines and howls in between conversations,

A Spector,

a form,

the midnight saint,

The 2 a.m. magic man,

no one hears or sees anything but the winding smoke trailing off a single cigarette hanging from a cats grinning lips in the corner,

who has been here?