Spring Summer 17

Quite taken
By a face I met several years ago
On a street corner streaked with
City Sweat.
The new season’s old drum beats coming back to haunt me
And take my wallet with them.
Blinked, and I would have thought
I were back.
Old Country Western
tunes like meat,
raw sticky undeniably fresh
but sour anyway.
Off the chain,
on the hook.