It's not quiet here.
The garbage men come early
4am-ish I suppose
the night clubs and strip clubs and pizza joints and porn shops rumble and buzz in neon nylon stocking night caps
the saloon and it's alley of old whores and shoeshines, toothless grins and tongue flicks
"Come on baby shake it swish it swing it, come baby one more time, oh yeah! Hot damn, gimmie one more! Baby one more!"
Someone screams through a trumpet
kicks a boot, stamps out a cigarette
cursing about quitting for the twelfth time that night
greased up marina punks stumble and lunge
swerving circles misplaced footsteps
steady now down romolo hill
just enough to break pace
and hurl or urinate
(I always cringed when you'd piss in doorways)
Someone fights in the street on or off the phone
or with themselves
the cops are kept busy,
their lights and sirens dance on walls and ping through party murmur
Someones bass is always blowing out a speaker....
Morning doves
Seagulls
Cars trucks and buses
Can ladies
Poets jacked on caffeine and fucking nicotine and thought and bullshit
and maybe a banana nut muffin
and sleep deprivation
Foreign tourists or students piled in hostels
speaking tongues
and I'm wondering if I could learn a language in my sleep
...if it ever comes.