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Poem

The clown with his red cherub face
A maggot in his twisted brain
The jack-booted leather Christian
With dull razorblades down his spin

Staring down from their high windows
The taste of gin upon their tongues
Lusty fire crackling in their eyes
Peering through a glowing skylight

Her luscious body lies reclined
Naked upon a soft red divan
Bathed by the nocturnal moonlight
Dark hair caressing her full breasts

Wineglass in her ruby nailed hand
Cigarette smoke hangs like a mist
Within her thick glassed fishbowl perch
Well aware of her voyeur friends

A wood fire smoke perfumed grey fog
Creeps through the emerald city
In the lighted valley below
The street sounds echoing upward

A lone saxophone serenades
From a lighted corner news stand
The battered open case lying
Before white patent leather shoes

A hooded figure at the keys
With faded fingerless gloves
The sound of blues bathing the air
Reflecting off sueted windows

A cab slowly crawls to a halt
Before a finely dressed doorman
He receives a small diamonded hand
Her stiletto heel strikes concrete

She walks the carpeted runway
He opens a cipher locked door
She passes him a fresh twenty
Before her image disappears

A leather clad rider appears
Astride a black silver chromed horse
Gliding down the shadowy street
Vanishing with a ghostly roar

A nearby siren screams and hearts skip
Gunshots ring and distant tires squeal
The saxophone player pauses
The Clown and Christian shift their gaze

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