Midweek Frisco Flings

deep deep in the Mission heart
with shining faces lit up like art
two Italian flowers dancing alike
stumbling by the hour, runnin around the night

enjoying the seediness of our current location
the semi-dark deserted streets we've been wandering
and the severely swilled state we've come to find ourselves in
as the local pendejos wink tequila lit eyes
whistling at the crane-legged senoritas that swinghip by

we are each others perpetual drive
and we exist momentarily within each others minds only
you whirl about me and i alike you
as we're driven through more dive bar doors

just following the music that tends to enjoy us
clinging itself on us like lichen to rocks
pulling or souls off the weak street
attacking our wet feet with groove scat jazz beats

we are victims of our own
lack of inhibitions
two too boozed singing disasters
floating between disjointed memories

waking to scattered afternoon light rays
falling upon nylons running where the trees scraped
two tangled bodies, minds intact barely
two romantic night life tragedies