One Shot: four tokes, inhaled

4:23 in the belly of the beast, claws
sparking rails as it drags on east, taking us
deep into the city streets & through the
double pain window i watch, as she,
head sides shaved, the rest pulled into swirl,
bobs & weaves to the beat, buds in her ears,
a private little dance for the world  as she clings
to the pole, car rocking to & fro---

disgorged, we ride escalators out the bowels
of the drag-ons den, heat rising the higher
we move from the station to the streets &
at the corner crosswalk we wait, sweat
the moments til the red man turns white
for us to walk, when whizzing by flies a wide
smile singing at the top of his lungs, erect &
helmeted on a blue weaving moped---

block upon block they stack up beneath
the treads on our feet, asphalt's fault lines,
we count cracks to the harbor, where ships
masts rise, pointing fingers to the one, sun, and
behind thick black glasses, bushy brows
twitch & the artist spins charcoal butter-
flies on his canvas, unseen by the naked
eye, but in mind, beautiful---

an old sax man, set between two ships
moors, drops notes in the warm air, firm fingers
working the knots, temples, shoulders, neck,
har-bringer of night, streetlights awaken, eyes
as we prowl, prey, slow & pad soft as not to disturb
but gently run our tongue along its pulse points,
bass & treble of the ci-tay, as it trembles
in intimate joy---

52 weeks ago, 4 people thought they would throw a party to celebrate poetry...A year later, I invite you to join us as we celebrate once more. It is One Shot Wednesday, so write something poetic already and get out on the poetic dance floor. The doors open at 5 PM EST. See you there.