The Water Market

A market full of three hundred taps Calligraphy sign assigned to each From every one Adam, his ale laps Across the street from Cocoa beach I’d have walked right by you see But a stranger pointed to a sign When he heard a thirsty me Panting down the hot shoreline “Walk this way”, an arrow pointed To a hidden place to slake Rapacious thirst my anointed Angel revealed for mercy’s sake Each brass nozzle clean water splashed Each soft and sweet or hard and tinny To one unused, I quickly dashed Taste of blood, a bit, irony