Out of Water

When I saw you again, I got that "out of water" feeling, like a Jew at a nazi wedding, or nutloaf on thanksgiving kinda strange to be here again, seeing your love and run-away black hair, cinderella on the stair; and I mused, that if a flawless-beauty-queen walked through a plastic surgery clinic, with it's sag-bag middle-aged customers; she'd feel that way too; and the apples dropped from the tree where we first met, all those beers ago; and it seemed strange and harmless like a pigeon's ghost; and my eyes follow your hitched-up skirt and my wallet your check, (and the new guy who's paying,) all the way up to the gargoyles, and you, Esmeralda; playing your hunch. I'm out of jokes, now is not the time, and I swim away, from the ridiculous, the sublime.