feminine wiles were whtted down near midnight
under crooked honky tonk stars within the nothingness of cool air
happening fog and dew upon the low hanging fruit and berries in the dirt
to be pressed into casual poisons
the work of sober factories
passing out confusion and colorful garbage
as though against deltas from the gulf of mexico

a cheap easy drink and phony martini lip
to be rimmed with salt and door to door cosmetics
the soggiest of coasters leaving us to pull impurities from sand
in honor of such and suches castle
admiration of queens falling short
without casual toes to fill her modern drain

and dim light not falling but stretching itself out
for the sake of fruit above water
for poisons that do not end us, but drunk on water beds
girls within orders to bartenders
never knowing their mix as flavorful
living awkward as cocktails on the toxic shore
and dying before the next big thing happens
tasting like grapes, maybe