Planting Trees in the Red Light District

Through a glass eye

I pried my stanza rails apart

to find cliched underpinnings

to a well thought out track...

There was sun... there was moon..

there was touchy maroone...

all the colors that served

to smother your senses -

that exquisiteness that's been residing

on the tongue tips of many...

Harmonied larceny -

The idea that if I paint a fresh coat

on your things,

I could market the new and improved..

Or just new...

Either way, flowered fields pouring colors

are the simplest way

to convey I'm a lover of beauty.

But I'd rather show you the charcoal swirls

of a midnight district.

Gambling exquisiteness.

And corner foxes

prostituting vividness under neon spotglows.

Wicked as shit,

Taxi cabs haul niggers and spics

to gangland...

Veins in phosphorescent black

curl tightly around heart corners.

And you can feel the beat of the city streets

make worlds come alive,

where Italians and Colombians congregate

talking business in white.

Money is won.

Drinks and smiles are had

and we all make love

for a night...

Yes, the beauty runs thicker

than designer drugs

and crayola liquors,

while some guy in a top-hat

plays the sidewalk fiddle

of his soul...

and we sit on the outskirts


and talking down...

Hanging on to our whimsical trees and suns

Before they get flipped the fuck around...

funny how it all comes

so easy now...

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