Antiques staring out the dark windows, stand and reflect the sex-toys, strip-joints, she-hunks, strung-out stree players, needle-armed blues band, half-shell shuffling hustlers stalking the drunks stumbling in vomit, piss, ashes and leaves. Electric streetcar-shavings fly and dance on the rise of of iron torn balconies and rest on decaying brick laced with glass, at once, observing the stinging of life and people boil through the steets below with beads and bottles, eye-crazed, eye-fallow; horsemen slowly sweep them into the night and they all slip under the blue-blackened star-scattered, ledges and eves of heaven
Reason for writing:
Mardi Gras, especially the last day, is a lot like life in general....Isn't it?
Birth sign: Not entered
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