frankly

the sky in drops thanks you frankly

a sober sun

floats above a variety of solitudes

(holes in the white noise)

until her balloon gets stuck

in the thunder

who is mumbling

the city's torso is for sale?

a glamorous valentine with blue eyes

blinks

dropping the keys to the casino

inside a banjo

while

fond memories try to tango with a nocturne

and the fireworks melt

in their cages

the earth tortures good manners

under our feet

the hustler loves everyone’s concealed

destination in imagination

prise open up those theorists

hand and foot

the lucid edge between what should happen

and what won’t

will bring

the rose in the egg

through tears

to our eyes