Elephant bar
there is an elephant bar
along a salty rim in Santa Barbara
a port shaped building in disguise
palms trees with pitch fingers
plucking out against 1:30 black
lamp posts standing
in their metal helmets
pagan samarais
with white hot eyes
could’ve been the ecstasy
making my furry skin crawl
throwing myself up
in a face down ditch
a barefoot bar wench
brought a pint of Fat Tire
with alabaster skin
(frozen mug not wench)
a tap of hazy drum
interrupted my stare
its mad language speak
rolling off snare tongue
and we spoke of nothing
going about life that way
© Cochise 2010
