never the same

            night—never the same

                        light in the feet

dark devil in the heel
the dress got wet—

            i cut it off—i lost

                        control—rolled off the bed

                                                     //




the fault was all stylus—

            how it beat the rhythm out

                        the groove—flicked

            the heel

                         ‘cross the boards of the J.C. Hotel—

            shaking, grinding

                        skip, kick & flack

                                                            tr




specifics track the mental map

            of a night well spent—

                        … dot is the line that solves two points

                                    heel to		heel
            play it loud, 	louder again
the dress got wet—

            i cut it off

            i lost

                 control—

                                      //

the drink sunk in—

            i swigged the heat

drew out            the sweat

            slips down the arcing spine—

                        shredded moments in a salt-licked

                                                            time—
viscous liquids all shook up

            in the dense light of a dusky pub—

the buddy system—lava lamp

that won’t dissolve
            louder,            louder still
the dress got wet—

            i cut it off

            i los      t control—

                                             //
mischief can’t control her hands—

            i stole the gin—

                        four fingers

                        down their throats—

                        and one was mine

                        and it was cut
                                     (signals to the floor—

                                                a point

                                                            two

            bodies in a field—free-spinning dandelion drift

                                    matching feet

bonny lass,

                        bonny class

                                                bonny stylus groove

|| :

the dress got wet—

            i cut it o  ff

            i lo  st  cont

                                    rol

                                                : ||

		fell off the bed 
and bonny laughing out the window

            says “come on let’s go—