neon beer signs
fire door mural cop

harassing drunk patron junk filled basement
last heyday in 1950s
cheap luncheon bar feed
John Fante tattoo
don’t eat the nachos
jukebox no one can hear
two whores boxing
wino pissing
across the street
one shoe on the other
hanging from the wire
that brought the city down
they work on instinct
they are all prison taught
he whispered candy ass freaks
tell me to suck their dick
just for walking on their street
chasms blur all out
the kingdom gone
the will be fickle
find the beauty
of the bones
encased in jaundiced laughter