new york city slow
feet tapping
fingers snapping
old whisky sweat
bleeker street regression
old school bar
where even morning
is night
shadow retreat
slow jazz fizz
bleeding rhythm
shaded balance
where a north country
girl
disappeared
where only a
dusty jeans
tee-shirt torn
war born
poet still believes in her
as dares
to see
where god deceives
where reality lies lost
within the shadows of
empty whisky glasses

- jude