Down at The Lazy Orchid
Base flowed like mercury.
Emma sat, eyes of fire
Staring back from
Vodka shot meniscus.
The sparse drum beat
Indicates an architecture
To the liquidity
Her finger's
Tapped pensive
Inside The Lazy Orchid
Bare concrete
Punctuated with rusting re bar
Sound systems giving
Harsh lines living movement.
Bar man Dave
Water's Bar plant Marge
Laconic as always
No judgment
No questions
The base tightens
Emma's slices a slither of lemon
With a clever
And twists the three drops
Into the vodka
The rest of them
The Shatin Girls
Walk in.
Like a wake behind
Tinky and Winky.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment