(someone would go home with her, wake up without smokes and his car towed or 20 months pinned on a broke dancer’s dream)

Jim Trainer’s swinging of the muddy incense pendulum!

Going for the Throat

madhouse swinging
through the flesh
sloshing gallons around
and capsized
talking as the smoke
caught like a cobweb
in the yellow light
high passions and hard laughter
rising when the bell rung behind her
how lucky the unlucky
getting close and cozy
until closing time
spilling out onto the street
like a gladhanding raucous steam

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