A Night On the Town

We drive and we sit and we think-talk And talk-think The wind blows words out of our mouths before we can And through our satanic smoke rings We see: A small section of the Athenian catastrophe. Unfolding with the falsely spreading lights… Our microcosm (Our safe-house) You roll the windows up And the top down And we cloud gaze.. Out cocoon of heat is a shelter From everything we are, And everything we are scared to be... Only a short while now. Our cigarettes will run out, And we will too Disperse Back home? Eyelash wishes won’t save anything now… You’ll never understand Naïve little boy.