A conjuring of perceptions
The fragmented dances of unarmed natives,
helpless to realization
A tribe for the animal mind
A naked girl touching death
whispering into its deaf ear
stroking the perimeters of absent desire
unaware & unconcerned
of its impotence.
A fat man sits in the corner
gloating,
parading the echoes
of this constant despair.
Death leaves,
but only for a moment
& a breath is caught by all.
Must capture this modest thrill.
Must conceive of a.....
Too late. Too late.
"Only The Dead Are Free"
Dance on, & cling to the night's
shameless beauty.
It's Happy Hour.
Art by Stephen Lorber
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