The Booth In the Back Please

after the dance we opened the doors dampness surrounded this place maroon drapes paisley patterns blinded my emotions license plates of james dean covered the pine paneling only in the back funny how a pair of levi's could bring about such lonliness but there was james standing there leaning up against his motorcycle flickering that cigarette i had dreamed of life away from a smoked filled room however i was being forced fed macho manner by mere bruts tyrants wearing tightly fitted pinky rings shuffling their feet quickly my only thought was that of the stingrays sharp shooters how their eyes are morbidly unseen right before they strike their prey i wouldn't even speak of away from tropical shirts and the pelicans beak an yet after the dance we had entered this think tank of sea urchants mere leaches all reaching for small time scores the same old crabs in the same old bucket one by one pulling the one closet to the top back down to scurry sideways with the bottom feeders night crawlers here i am again your place their place our place i wondered if they noticed me at all or was i just a cold curvy bottle of coke a cola to be placed on a red and white canvas in front of knitted covered candles or was i just a manikin leaning against that timeless old seeburg continuing to drag the needle slowly across the nylon fibers of my favorite record over and over again like filing my broken nail or fussing over another run in my stocking who needs stocking why i was simply this forgotten mermaid among a school of green eyed hungry sharks but then there was james a mere mirage gazing down route 66 in land catering to the backside of those levi's oh wait here he comes again he's going to ask me to dance what will i say oh my feet hurt or just say no shoes tonight shall we swim out of here my mind tossed to and froe i just couldn't bare to waste a perfectly good pair of fins don't you know