graphicsman1977

Night Scene

Rustic urchins
lurk empty-bottled
with Neptunian eyes,
all briny and ocean-like
The air is mangled,
vexed with irkish cacophony
and shoved, uncooked,
like a jagged song,
through a rapacious flume-
I am rancid with passion,
rank, evil-smelling and rotten,
trapped in a quagmire
of perusal,
ramshackled and unabated,
boiled in tequila spillways,
sodden,sotted, sauced,
three sheets in the wind,
slandered by swishy accounts,
my soul - secluded
and detached -
Morassed by a myriad
of ragtag ribble-rabble,
the night disintegrates
into the neon dazzle
of a midnight cabaret...