A Chinese Western

We could lean on one another in the neon palm garden or take a stroll through the riptides & spilled drinks of an elegance we never knew.   Stepping between cardboard tombstones we would recite alchemical formulas memorized from a lifetime of TV commercials.   A subliminal guitar riff spikes the shadow of your coffee cup.   Blink & you’ll miss it.   The dust swirls up & the bamboo tumbleweed rolls down to the sea.   The ransom note was in braille, the femme fatale was in a silver fishnet ensemble that fit her like the City of Angels on the flipside of a climatic showdown.   The moon shimmering on the surface reminding us of the friends we left behind & the road ahead.   Plum wine, opium, & chow mein at the saloon & the streets washed in shadows as we rode out into the thunder.   Shifting seven ways through the red silk armor that rustles in the breeze of the Big Aloha closing out now on a gunmetal beach as we head for the border.   You with your carved jade sunglasses & me in my Hong Kong sombrero.