Adrenalin Waltz

Trapeze clouds strung from morning
to dusk with the cigarette girl caressing my
indecision

A disenchanted native offers me a silver-plated
tomorrow but there’s always too much fine print
& my eyes aren’t what they used to be
              having seen what they’ve seen whether that was
real or imagined I guess doesn’t matter in the
                              final final eager to be shoved past a
              hallucinatory indulgence that
                                                strips the paint from the walls
                              of your soul

& waiting for the music of a velvet rockslide
to crush the fingers that should feel the changes
before they happen even (one last toke to
carry you through or past
                              expecting it all to rattle down like
              moonlight in the sand